


Hades' Covenant

by CrystalRebellion



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984)
Genre: Additional tags are fun, Contest of wills, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Light BDSM, Lotor likes consent, Slow Burn, Smut, clashing cultures, i don't actually know what i'm doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 127,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14227323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalRebellion/pseuds/CrystalRebellion
Summary: When Allura attempts to free Romelle from Castle Doom, she finds Prince Lotor instead. Isolated far from her Voltron Force, Allura is made an offer she simply can't turn down. Lotor finally has everything he wants - or does he? He quickly realizes that Allura's heart will be his most difficult and trying conquest yet. (Lotor x Allura) (DotU)





	1. Pomegranate

"Do. Not. Move," his words were low and threatening as his lips brushed against her ear. A firm hand pressed over her mouth to silence her, his body tight against hers.

Allura could barely move beneath his iron muscles and the strength with which he covered her mouth nearly cut off her air supply. She couldn't squirm, scream, or fight back. 'Terrified' was an understatement.

Tears budded in the corners of her eyes in panic as she stared openly up at Lotor, his body wrapped around hers, pressing her against the wall in the dimly lit Drule corridor. She only struggled as fiercely against him as she did to tame her rising hysteria.

"I mean it," he hissed dangerously at her as footsteps approached from behind. His scent clouded her mind as thoroughly as his body dominated her field of view.

"Lotor, what the hell are you doing," Zarkon's voice drawled out lazily from behind his son. Lotor pinned the princess with one last warning look – or was it… pleading? – before raising his head to look over at his father. His body still pressed into Allura’s, effectively concealing her.

"Having a bit of fun at the moment, Father," he called out loudly, glaring over at the king.

"Save some for me," the king laughed darkly. She would have dropped to the ground in a cold faint if the prince hadn't been supporting her body entirely. His hand on her arm squeezed tighter in response to the king's words.

"There are _plenty_ of others for you," he commented, Lotor’s voice dangerously close to snarling. Somewhere in her haze of fear, a single ray of comfort touched Allura at the venom in the prince's voice. Realizing that he did not intend to let Zarkon near her was a small relief. Lotor was frightening enough on his own.

"I thought I told you to keep your harem activities contained to your chambers," the aging monarch grumbled. Lotor grew stiffer as the footsteps came closer.  Allura could feel his muscles tense and coil, as if in preparation for combat.  "Which one is this one, anyway? I haven't noticed you spending time with your girls since you started chasing after that princess."

All Allura could see was Lotor; she couldn't see what was happening in the background. The statement Zarkon made resonated surprise in the back of her mind, but there were far more serious matters in front of her to contemplate it at the moment. Several strained seconds ticked by in silence. Another footstep behind them urged Lotor to shift his body slightly. A low rumble resonated from his chest that sounded suspiciously like an animalistic growl.

"I-" Lotor fumbled with an answer, his word half-spoken, half-spat.

"Sire. I have something that requires your attention immediately." Allura recognized Haggar's voice instantly.

"What is it, witch?" Zarkon sounded more irritable than usual.

"A robeast for you to inspect. It's in my laboratory," she continued.

"That's what you call immediate? Very well," the king grumbled. One set of retreating footsteps preceded an exhale of relief from the prince, but he still did not move.

"You'll crush her if you keep doing that, you know," Haggar said softly. "I won't tell him. I just need to go find a robeast to show him now," she muttered. Lotor stepped back from Allura, his hands still firmly on her upper arm and over her mouth. Allura felt the blood return to her forearms as he put space between them. Her palms still rested on his chest from her attempts to push him away before he had bodily crushed into her.

"Good work, Haggar," he said as the crone ambled off in the direction Zarkon had taken. He looked pensively after her for a minute to be certain both were gone before fixing his gaze on the princess.

"If he knows you're here, we'll  _both_  end up in the Pit of Skulls. Is that clear?" He stared at her intensely as she tried to nod her head up and down under his grip. He sighed and took a second step back, releasing the hand over her mouth while still gripping her firmly by the arm. She let her palms drop to her sides and balled them into angry fists.

"What  _are_  you doing here, anyway?" He looked over the slip of a girl as she squirmed against his hold on her, trying to pry his grasp off with her free hand pitifully.

"Let go," she instructed softly while trying to wretch her arm free.

"No, my sweet. We are going somewhere more private and I am going to learn why you are here," he said darkly. With a tug, he was moving down a hallway, hauling the princess behind him. She thrashed and struggled, but did not cry out. Allura knew there was no one in earshot that could - or would - help her.

Lotor grunted slightly in frustration as she fought him the entire length of the corridor.  She dug her heels into the tile and thrashed her weight around in an effort to loosen his hold. He paused in front of a door to unlock it. With a low oath, he palmed the door open and heaved the frustrating princess into the room, shutting the door and locking it with a keypad. Then, and only then, did he release her arm.

She sprang away from him like lightning, backing to the center of the room. Her right hand cradled her left bicep and rubbed it gently, trying to discourage the bruise that would likely appear. After a second, her eyes glanced around the room he had brought them to and her skin paled a few shades, her heart nearly freezing in her chest.

In the center of the far wall, an enormous four-poster bed dominated the room. A plush ebony comforter draped over steel blue satin sheets and pillows, reeking of luxury. Black marble tile graced the floor and matching marble walls rose up around, framing an elegant fireplace.

Lotor calmly walked past her to the fireplace and touched a switch nearby, causing flames to spring to life and illuminate the dark room. He watched the fire for a moment before turning and fixing his gaze on her.

She flinched under the intensity of his look and self-consciously crossed her arms over her chest. Being around Lotor was discomforting. Being around him while alone was nerve-wracking. She had yet to come up with a word to describe the level of anxiety that being alone in his very bedchamber evoked from her. It was possible no such word existed.

He took a moment to look over her closely for the first time since he crossed her path while she was infiltrating his castle. She shifted uncomfortably.  Allura had made it past two waves of guards, bypassed the throne room and had nearly made it to her target before she had the misfortune of being in the same hallway as he. Somehow, despite her sticking to the shadows and staying tucked out of sight, he had spotted her as if he had her pinned on radar. They had barely had a moment to exchange threats before he had covered her bodily.  _Protected,_  her mind corrected her. He had  _protected_  her from his father.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was calm but it was firm. He felt his temper swell when she just closed her eyes and tilted her chin up in response to his question. "Fine then," he drawled out dangerously. "Let's see if I can guess." He peeled off the wall near the fireplace and began pacing a slow, predatory circle around her.

Her eyes snapped open and she blushed brightly as he stalked her like a panther, slowly turning to maintain eye contact with him. His eyes roamed over her body shamelessly, drinking in every inch of her frame. Her muscles stiffened and her arms remained folded defiantly across her chest.

"I _do_ like the outfit," he murmured appreciatively, commenting on her attire. Allura was not in her usual white and pink flight suit; she was dressed in combat fatigues consisting of black and grey. Baggy pants dwarfed her feminine figure, ending in a pair of black boots and a fitted black shirt. While she was unmistakable in his eyes, she was clearly attempting to dress for stealth.

When Allura continued to maintain silence, the prince's eyes narrowed dangerously. He paused in his stroll and stared openly at her. With the speed of a snake, he reached out and grasped hold of her wrist. Allura cried out in surprise as he shoved the long sleeves up her arm before reaching and doing the same with her other arm. Despite her struggling, Lotor pulled her in close and patted down her décolletage. She flushed red with embarrassment as he fondled her neckline before releasing her.

She sprang away, crossing her hands back over her chest in furious indignation.

"What in heaven-"

"You're not wearing any kind of communicator," he observed coldly. "You're dressed to hide within this place easily enough..." he trailed off, a sinister smirk on his lips.  "I'd bet your team doesn't even know you're here, do they?"

"Of course they do! Keith is-"

"Keith would never let you do what you're doing. He's probably back on Arus, perhaps just now noticing that Blue Lion is even missing." He paused for effect, watching her skin pale slightly. "Am I wrong?"

Allura knew she hesitated a second too long. He was already smirking delightfully at her before she tried to deny his suspicion. She shook her head once, trying to convince the frightening prince that she had backup waiting in the wings.

"That still leaves one question unanswered," he continued, ignoring her insistence that the rest of the Voltron Force was nearby. " _Why_  are you here?"

Again, she met his mounting frustration with silence to rival a martyr. He growled and moved toward her swiftly.

"No matter. I have what I want, I don't require anything else," he said. She backed away as he stalked toward her.  It took only a matter of seconds before he caught her and she was falling onto her back on the soft bed, his body hovering over her.

"Uhg, get off of me!" She grunted at him, struggling to wretch her body free as he pinned her to the soft mattress.

"Why would I give up what I want?"

She cried out in frustration as he lowered his face toward hers. She turned away, grimacing at his proximity.

"All you want is my body?"

"I'll have your love, too," he commented coldly.

" _Never,_ " she hissed out. Lotor's jaw ticked and he paused, hovering a few inches above her. "And you don't  _have_  it, you're merely taking it by force," she commented darkly. She knew in the recesses of her soul that he was stronger than her and physically he could easily take anything he desired. Her words, however, seemed to still him. The grasp on her wrists loosened and within a moment he had released her entirely, coming to stand again.

Allura sat up on the bed, dazed by his change of tactic, watching him pace across the room in front of the fireplace. He paused and removed his helmet and set it on the mantel. She stared with fascination as he ran his fingers through his hair briefly before continuing to contemplate the situation.

"Keith doesn't know what you're doing. No one knows you're here. It can't be a war effort, you'd need backup." He stopped and turned to look at her. "I'm offering you a chance to tell me. I could get you to talk, you know. But I'd rather not resort to those methods…"

Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head once. At her silence, Lotor stiffened.

"Very well. For each minute that you don't tell me what you want to know, I'll have a slave executed," he said.

"You wouldn't! You can't!" She reached her hand out toward him in blind panic, rising to her feet; the fear etched on her face gave away her weakness. He played his hand carefully and just shrugged, turning to the door to unlock it.

"It's Romelle!" Allura burst out into sobs behind him, covering her face in her hands. "I came to find her," she admitted, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

"Now that's more like it," he praised, turning back to face her.

"You're a monster," she accused, gathering herself back together and wiping her tears away with a sniffle. "They'll come for me, you know."

He watched her with an eerie intensity. The silence that beat between felt like it lasted an eternity. Allura fidgeted restlessly, unable to stand still while he stared. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and in the glimpses she tossed him over her shoulder, she could see the flashes of thought behind them as he contemplated something deeply.

"What," she muttered, unnerved at his silence. He exhaled slowly, but did not speak at first. He instead lowered himself languidly into an armchair, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm going to make you an offer, Princess," he said slowly, carefully measuring his words as he spoke them. His voice strained slightly, as if he were taking great care in precisely what he said.

"I won't marry you," she snapped quickly.

"You haven't heard my terms yet," he said, one corner of his lips curling up as she jumped immediately to that conclusion.

"I can't imagine you would have anything that would _ever_ make it agreeable," she said flatly. Her ice-blue eyes had returned to him and pinned him with the fire he relished.

"See," he began, pausing to lick his lips. He tore his eyes from hers for the first time and glanced down to watch his folded hands in his lap. "Nothing has been - or will be - announced formally until after the fact," Lotor continued. "But Zarkon will not be king much longer. And I seem to be in dire need of a queen."

The news stunned Allura so sharply that she sat backwards on the bed. Her fury melted from her face as surprise flooded her features. Lotor kept his face pointedly impassive as he looked back to her.

"Zarkon won't be king anymore?" Her uttered cadence was a breathy whisper.

"No.  _I_  will be. Which means I will have autonomous authority over the entirety of the Drule Empire," he explained. He articulated each word slower than usual, carefully measuring her reaction. He watched with satisfaction as Allura's eyes widened - she realized the significance of the fact. "I'll give you Romelle." He paused for effect. "I'll free _all_ the slaves." Another pause as she chewed her bottom lip. He felt a twinge of delight as she struggled to keep her face blank but failed miserably. "Arus will never be invaded again."

She shot him a glare, clearly torn over the carrot he was dangling.

"I don't believe you." Allura's blatant shock wore off and she stared at him dubiously. Lotor's carefully concealed expression broke and he grinned lethally at her.

"I mean it. All that, for you. What do you say, my dear?"

"Never."

"You would trade all of that peace you claim to champion for… simply because of pride?"

Allura scowled at him. Her cheeks bloomed crimson at the insinuation that it was her pride stopping her. Her eyes both enticed and frustrated him; they were honed like frosty daggers on him, befitting a fighter in combat. While he knew she was rapidly contemplating a variety of aspects and approaches to the situation, he couldn't see past the frigid shields his sweet warrior brought to their battlefield.

"And what of me, then? A prize on a shelf? Locked in a tower?" Lotor masked his delight that she was even entertaining his offer.

"Of course not. You'd be by my side - ruling an empire," he responded.

"And what of Arus?" Her gaze never wavered; only her words betrayed her line of thinking.

"Completely under your control and reign, if you prefer. You could come and go as you please. I fancy a queen, not a hostage." Lotor was ready with an answer to every question she could throw his way. He had played the scene over in his mind for years. The only missing leverage he needed was the authority of his father's throne. Until then, he only had pale attempts to snare her through other means.

"I could be on Arus?" Her eyes lit up at the mention of it; the first crack in her barrier.

"At least half your time would be spent in Castle Doom. You would be ruling over the Drule Empire as well, you know. But if you so choose, the other part of the time you could be on Arus. You could spend half a year there, half here... or come and go between the two as you saw fit." He didn't necessarily like the concessions he was making for her, as he was greedy and wanted all of her at all times, but he knew damn well his price would need to be high to even engage her in a conversation about it to begin with.

She drew her knees up to her chest and seriously contemplated the offer in front of her. Allura's heart raced and she felt bile rise in her throat at the prospect of wedding the evil prince. But if he were being truthful in all he promised...

"How do I know you will keep your word?" She glared at him.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Of course you have! All the time!"

"Name _one_ time," he challenged her. Allura parted her lips to spout off the list of every deceptive act he committed, but she froze. Prince Lotor had been cruel, he had been conniving and manipulative, he had even been brutal and aggressive. But she could think of no moment he had ever been deceptive toward her. Though brutish and overbearing, he had never made any pretense of his intentions or desires. She shut her mouth, glaring at him in response. He just smiled sweetly at her, eliciting a shudder down her spine. In that moment, Allura decided his smile was more terrifying than his smirk.

"So what do you say, my dear? Will you be my bride and become the savior of the galaxy?"

She desperately wanted to tell him no. She wanted to scream and run away from the idea, but the prospect of not only ending the war against Arus but also having the platform to negotiate on behalf of other planets was too enticing to completely resist.

Seconds ticked into minutes, Allura's gaze locked on his. Neither flinched, neither wavered. She was challenging him to break - to admit it was a joke or that he would never keep his word. Her eyes devoured his as she searched for any hint of deception, any filament of dishonesty or betrayal.

She found none.

"You're serious." Her words belied more of her astonishment.

"I am. I've always been serious when it came to you."

Allura's heart raced as she ran the scenario through her head. Her eyes widened and her cheeks blushed.

"Romelle goes free."

"Done."

"So do all the slaves."

"Of course."

"Immediately. No twisting it to be twenty years from now-"

"They will be considered free-"

"-and safe from all harm," she added dangerously, her mind rushing to try and seal any loophole he could think of. Her words ran faster with impending anxiety the more she bartered.

"-And safe from all harm," he repeated, his grin widening a little bit as she engaged him in negotiations. "-the moment we are wed."

"Arus is safe. No infiltration, it stays under my authority  _only._  You will have no say in decisions made regarding its governance."

"Fine," he shrugged, continuing to watch her hungrily.

"No Voltron; it, too, stays under my control alone. The lions, their pilots, like the rest of my citizens, all safe from any harm."

"As long as they don't engage in any hostile acts or try and break our agreement by rescuing you or forcibly coming between us," he countered.

Allura stared at him thoughtfully, racking her brain for any way he could manipulate the situation to his advantage.

"Only marriage. That's all," she pinned him down.

"Well, it would be  _nice_  if you stopped slapping me every time you saw me," he murmured dryly under his breath. The length of detail that she was going to would have been irritating if she weren't on the verge of agreeing.

"I won't be locked in a tower or thrown in a dungeon."

"Too cliché," he said absentmindedly. When she continued to stare at him, he gave her the concrete answer she was digging for. "No. Free roam of the castle, planet, empire and galaxy - freedom to travel between Arus and Doom as you pleased, anywhere you like, as long as you spent roughly half the time in total here. I won't have you marrying me then running back to Arus to ignore your husband. Likewise, if you're on Arus, I have rights to visit," he pressed back.

Allura scowled.

"But you're not taking over my authority. My people need me to lead them-"

"Just to visit," he confirmed. "I can only go so long without seeing your smile," he replied lazily with a grin. Allura's lips only twitched in response and stayed taut. She finally broke the staring contest between them as she reached to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"Stars above, am I actually considering this," she muttered to herself.

He waited. Never before had the impulsive prince ever felt such a strong call to patience. The sensation was foreign to him, but never had it felt so critical. He simply watched her in fascination, reading the tension on her features as her mind warred with her heart.

"When I say no harm, I mean direct  _and_  indirect - you can't cause someone else to go start a war or enslave them, either!" Allura glanced up to glare at him.

"You're really focused on that," he commented, more to himself as he realized one of the quirks of the princess.

"Of course I am! Your concern is that I'll agree to this and then run off away from you - my concern is that I'll give up everything for noth-" She paused mid-sentence as he rose from the chair and strode toward her, stopping in front of her on the bed. Allura gasped as he did something he had never done to her before.

He knelt.

"Allura. I swear on my life that no harm, direct or indirect, will come to your people - including your Voltron Force. The Drule Empire will  _protect_  them if needed from other invaders. The slaves will be released, including your cousin. Arus stays in your control, along with Voltron. All in exchange for your wedding vows. Do we have an arrangement?"

The princess was unable to hold back the unfathomable shock any longer. Her lips parted and her eyes widened while he patiently stared into her eyes.

"I..." Even as she trailed off, at a loss for words, he still waited. Moments became minutes and his muscles grew stiff from the floor while the thoughts flew through her mind, calculating, planning and weighing. After a small eternity, she breathed an answer she never thought possible.

"Yes."

Lotor took her hand into his and pressed her fingertips to his lips to seal the agreement.

"Excellent."


	2. Preparations

Lotor slowly stood back to his full height and glanced down to the princess sitting so delicately on the edge of his bed. It was a place he had longed to get her for years and she now perched willingly before him. Her tundra-colored eyes were wide in shock at the word she had just uttered.

"Absolutely excellent," he reaffirmed, releasing her hand at last. She inhaled a trembling breath and he couldn't be sure if she were about to scream or burst into tears. To her credit, her lips pressed together tightly and she just stared up at him stoically instead.

"Well then," she whispered. "What happens now?" The shudder on her breath was unmistakable, but she did not give in to the hysteria lurking just beneath her surface. He could see the waves of panic rolling through her, and in some dark recess of his mind, a flicker of concern sparked.

"You shall get some rest while I make arrangements," he said decisively. Her skin paled another shade. "I'll have some food brought up."

"You said I wasn't a prisoner!" The shrill tone to her voice struck him oddly – the princess was truly in a state of pure panic and was barely reining it in. It was an emotion he had not seen from her before. He had witnessed her fury, her fear and her determination. Never before had he seen unadulterated terror.

"You are correct, and you are not a prisoner, my sweet. But until everything is in place, it is safer – for you – to remain here."

Allura couldn't decide whether to scream at the man, swing her fist or break down into sobs. She was certain her expression was ridiculous as it tried to account for her spectrum of emotions at what was unfolding around her.

"I…" She swallowed, watching his cold face, desperate for anything.  Any thread of compassion, any semblance of kindness to be reasoned with.  Any hope.

She found none.

A defense mechanism flipped on inside her and Allura felt a chilling strength flood her veins as her adrenaline died. Her lips pressed together thinly and she returned his cold expression. "As you wish," she said monotonously.

Lotor took a step back, unused to the frost from the princess, his own impassive expression breaking. She turned her gaze away from him and studied the hearth resolutely.

"Allura?"

"Make the necessary arrangements, please. I await further instructions," she continued, not looking toward him. Lotor reeled from the terrifying reaction she had. He stood in the center of the room staring at her, but she refused to meet his gaze.

"I'll be in touch with you soon," he supplied.

"Of course."

"You need to stay here," he added intentionally, trying to arouse her emotions again. Anger, fear, or even hatred would have been preferable reactions to the emotionless front she presented.  He had expected her to unleash her fury, even strike him.  The stillness and acquiescence that stood in stark contrast shocked him.

"I understand."

Lotor remained where he was standing a minute longer. With reticence, he turned to the door. He saw himself out, the door closing behind him. He lingered to test that it locked securely when he heard her.

She wept.

The heart-wrenching sobs from the safety of the empty room as she shattered caught him by surprise. He shook his head once. Allura would learn to love him. Fear was natural for change, he reasoned. She just needed time. Lotor reluctantly peeled himself away from the door and went to make the formal announcement to his father.

* * *

 

"What does my incompetent son need now," Zarkon's voice echoed around the empty room.

"I came to announce that I have found a suitable queen. We shall be wed at the same time of the coronation in two days," he said. The evil smirk on Lotor's face was unmistakable.

"Oh? And here I thought you'd never stop chasing that princess of yours," he murmured from his throne as he twirled the golden scepter thoughtfully.

"I didn't." Lotor's grin grew wider as his father paused and just regarded him.

"Are you telling me that my inept son actually managed to get her?" Lotor threw his head back and released a deep-throated laugh at Zarkon's response.

"Yes, my father. Allura has agreed – of her own free will, too – to become my bride and queen."

"And in what manner have you torn my Empire apart in effort to win her hand? You're not even king yet and I can't imagine what all you've destroyed," Zarkon muttered dangerously, quickly regretting his decision to pass the throne.

"Nothing of consequence," he replied smoothly, anticipating the wariness from the old man. "I gave her a guarantee of Arus' safety – her main concern. She couldn't pass up the chance," he explained, chuckling darkly. "A small concession on our part – there are many other planets to plunder, but no other as fair as she."

Zarkon studied the prince closely, testing his truth.

"And that's all? What about Voltron?"

Lotor rolled his eyes at his father before crossing his arms over his chest.

"I succeeded, didn't I? At any rate, we will need to prepare a wedding ceremony to happen during the coronation. Wedding before or after the crown?"

Zarkon stayed quiet a moment longer, lingering on the barter his son had made. He gave up on trying to get a concrete assurance that Lotor hadn't completely dissected the Empire in his obsession with the princess.

"Wed her first, get that out of the way before her friends come for her. The crowning ceremony can follow right after. She'll need one too, if she is truly to be your queen," he added.

Lotor looked surprised – he hadn't considered a part of the coronation for her.

"You're right, Father. I'll look into it. I haven't made any announcements yet – I don't want to draw those Space Explorers to us too soon. The ceremony is still quiet and small, correct?"

"We don't need our enemies to know there will be a transition of power before it is concluded," the king explained. "I like a good party as much as you, my son, but we do need to use a little discretion in this case to insure our strength, especially now that _she’s_ involved. …You really didn't give away anything other than Arus?"

Lotor's face stayed impassive when his father circled back in an obvious effort to catch him off-guard and reveal a fallacy.

"Father, please." Lotor had no intention of explaining to aging monarch about the rest of his barter with Allura. The coronation and wedding would happen before the slaves were freed. After the coronation, his father wouldn't have a say in the matter any longer.

He turned and walked out of the throne room, leaving the suspicious king scowling behind him.

* * *

 

"Two days, Sire? The coronation was slated for two _weeks_!" The Drule woman eyed the prince warily. "I don't think I can possibly prepare your slave girls in time for that, much less get everything decorated."

"Nevermind the girls," he said, eyeing his event planner critically. "Just the bare essentials of the ceremony are needed. Also, I need you to add a wedding beforehand and procure a queen's crown for my bride."

" _You what!_ " The hot-tempered planner just stared incredulously at the prince. "You're getting  _married_  now too?"

He flashed her an appreciative, fanged smirk.

"As it turns out, yes."

The silence that dropped between the over-stressed party planner and the prince who just threw a wrench into her complex and intricate plans was heavy.

"So you want me to plan, coordinate and execute a wedding-"

"Yes."

"- _and_  a coronation-"

"Of course," he grinned at her.

"-in two days' time. Just to be clear," she said slowly, staring at him.

"That is correct, Selna. I have faith in you. Forget the slaves or the processions, we just need this ceremony to be swift and proper," he added. He cringed inwardly at the thought of Allura's reaction to his dancing girls at their wedding.

"Anything  _else_  I should know about? A funeral, perhaps?" The irate female quirked an eyebrow at her unpredictable ruler. There were few in his inner circle that Lotor tolerated anything less than absolute servitude from. Selna was one of them.

"That will be all for now," he said as he turned on heel, eager to get back to his bride-to-be. Selna huffed slightly, irritated by her workload increase as he strode back to his chambers.

* * *

 

Lotor paused outside the locked door to his room to take a deep breath. He listened. There was no sound from within. He hesitated a moment, straining his impeccable hearing to catch even a whisper of her.

It was silent.

Lotor grew concerned that she was either injured or had escaped and quickly keyed the door open. The prince half-expected to have something thrown at him as he entered, but he was met with no such hostility. A first-order scan of the room revealed the princess was gone, and with a dark curse he began searching more closely in an effort to discover how.

He froze. Lotor's furious eyes fell upon Allura's body. She had managed to claw at some of the heavy furniture in the room and was curled up behind an askew dresser. His anger melted as quickly as he knelt down to her sleeping form.

Dried tear streaks shimmered in the dim lighting as she breathed slowly. Lotor reached in and tenderly eased her fragile frame into his arms and lifted her from her place of safety. She stirred only slightly while he carried her to the bed and settled her onto the mattress.

After making quick work of her combat boots, he pulled the covers over her and stepped back. Allura's soft skin was near-translucent from stress, her cheekbones taught and her lips dry. Beads from the last of her tears still clung to her thick lashes as the trails dried on her face.

It was a fairly easy deduction to the crown prince that she had fallen asleep while crying, but the dresser surprised him. He walked back to where he had plucked her from and noticed the deep gouges in the heavy piece, as if she had desperately clawed at it with all her strength. He frowned. She had sought the closest place to refuge she could find and expended all her strength to acquire it.

He tossed one last look back to her as she lay dwarfed by his bed. He contemplated his next move carefully before moving to the door. He left the bedchamber, the door closing behind him. He didn't bother locking it this time – he doubted Allura would be awake in any short timeframe. The amount of energy she had liquidated in her torrent of emotions had completely exhausted anything she had left.

* * *

 

He moved down the hallway, mentally ticking off his lengthy list. The wedding was an unexpected development that would have his staff scrambling. 

_Worth it._  

He knew he was straining their ability by moving the date forward two weeks, but he was not troubled by it. His only concern at the moment was Allura herself.

Lotor pushed open the door to his private entertainment room and stalked toward the smaller throne sitting on a pedestal. At his entrance, all of the precariously-clad girls jumped up and began dancing for him as they had many times before. Two women approached him with a vessel of wine and a glass to offer him a drink. He eagerly accepted the beverage and downed the drink quickly. The woman with the bottle poured another and the slave who had brought the glass turned to leave them.

"You, wait!" He reached out and grasped the girl's wrist. She gasped in surprise, turning around to stare at the prince, eyes wide with fear. "I have a special job for you." The slave trembled delightfully in his grasp as he drew her pretty form toward him. Lotor's 'special requests' were often quite licentious. "Come with me."

She offered no resistance as her lord led her down the hallway. She herself had never been chosen for one of the prince's personal escapades, but she had heard enough from the others to be sheet-white at the prospect. Why he had chosen her, she couldn't fathom. His preference had always been for the blonde-haired and blue-eyed slaves. Mia's long, brunette hair had marked her as unfavorable in that category, much to her relief.

He stopped them outside a door and he stayed still. The way his head tilted toward the door, he appeared to be listening.

"My lord?" She shirked back from the fearsome prince when he looked down at her with a dangerous intensity. She whimpered as his grip on her wrist tightened painfully. After waiting a moment he opened the door carefully and peered inside. His tense shoulders relaxed slightly as he saw the golden princess still curled up in his bed where he had left her.

Nudging the door open all the way, he dragged the young girl in behind him.

"I want you to take care of her," he instructed carefully. Mia's eyes widened in surprise at the obscure request from the prince. He continued as the shock registered on her face. "That is Princess Allura of Planet Arus. She's to be my bride soon. See that she eats, bathes and has proper clothing befitting a queen. Food will be brought up shortly. Understood?"

Mia hesitated and nodded once, her green eyes wide. The prince released her wrist and the slave wandered into the room.

"Let her rest for now. Once she's awake, you are to care for her as needed. Should you do your job well, I may release you from your binds," he added cryptically. He smirked at the slender girl as she gasped. With a last, troubled glance to Allura, he vacated his bedroom, locking the door behind him. There were still far too many things to do in such a short amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively slow chapter, I apologize. It was... definitely a house-keeping chapter. Lots of little things to get out, but no real movement. More action to come soon, for certain! Thank you for reading this far!


	3. Perserverance

_Running. She was running down a long, dark corridor. She couldn't see the end stretched in front of her. Allura felt her breath run out as she pushed her body to keep moving forward. Her lungs burned, her legs felt like fire. Every time she felt like she would collapse, she glanced over her shoulder._

_King Zarkon was never far behind, and the adrenaline that flooded her veins renewed her determination to keep fleeing. Every so often, she passed a candle on the wall that created a very dim, hazy atmosphere. Allura couldn't tell if the endless hall was cold or not - her muscles burned from the strain to push forward._

_Her toe caught and she stumbled forward. The lethal laughter that echoed off the walls as she crashed to the stone floor elicited a scream from her lips. His twisted hands grabbed her by the shoulders as she howled in terror. Allura felt her fingertips dig into the stone desperately as his grasp closed in on her. She felt her body begin to lift off the floor as he pulled her toward him, despite her screams._

_"M’lady, M’lady!"_

Allura's eyes fluttered open and she sat up with a painful intake of air. She looked slowly around the room in a daze as memories trickled back to her. Lotor, her arrangement... her situation. She swallowed apprehensively as she noticed the plush bed.

"M’lady?"

Her eyes cut to the only other person in the room, and Allura blinked dumbly before recognizing what was happening.

"I... who are you? You're human," she breathed, as she felt the adrenaline begin to drain from her body. She glanced down and quickly noticed that her clothes were soaked in sweat and both the fabric and bed linens clung to her. Another exhale, she lifted her hands from her lap and watched them tremble. Reaching up, she pushed the damp hair that had come free from her braid out of her face.

"My name is Mia, Princess," the brunette said, watching the trembling woman closely as she eased down on the edge of the bed. "Here, have some water," she offered a large chalice toward the prince's new fiancée.

Allura froze as she looked at the large vessel in front of her. The ostentatious ornamentation on it was clearly Drule and served as a dark reminder of her situation. With a resigned sigh she reached forward and took it in both hands. With her unsteady state, she wasn't certain she could hold the oversized cup with just one hand. Allura rested it in her lap and stared down into the pool of crystal clear water. Amidst the stillness, she looked back at her own reflection. Pale skin and puffy-eyes stared back. Allura frowned.

She looked up slowly and stared at Mia.

"This is not me. I will be strong for my people," she murmured before looking back to the cup and drinking deeply from the water before setting it aside. "Thank you for your kindness," she added, looking to the wary girl sitting across from her. The slave only bobbed her head and went to the wardrobe nearby, pulling open the doors.

"His Majesty had some finery brought for you while you were resting. Dinner is being prepared," she added as she withdrew a gown and presented it to the future queen. Allura crinkled her nose at the black and gold garment presented to her.

"It won't fit me anyway, not if it was tailored to fit a-"

"No M’Lady, they were made for  _you_ ," Mia insisted, holding up a second gown for her inspection. It was white and gold and shimmered in the firelight.

"He... had gowns made to fit me? In so short of time?" She nodded thoughtfully at the one held up and the young woman set it aside before holding up a black and red one. Allura quickly ruled that one out with a wave of her hand.

"Not just today. He's had them for a while, if I understand correctly," Mia explained as she brandished a fourth gown of cream and sky blue. Allura nodded appreciatively and a second option was set aside.

Allura startled, struck at the thought Lotor had had gowns made that fit her.  _How arrogant,_  she thought with a grimace.  _He just assumed that eventually I would... ...or he just knew,_  her thoughts turned dry as she realized that regardless, he had been correct in his planning. The anger at his presumptuousness depleted nearly as quickly as it had risen. She glanced up as Mia brandished a pink and gold gown. Allura looked stunned.

"That one, please," she murmured, floored by the thoughtful color choice in his requests. Mia nodded and hung it nearby.

"Would you like to bathe, M’Lady? I'll draw a bath if you'd like," she offered.

"I... that would be lovely, but I can... do it myself..." she trailed off, as no more than halfway through the sentence, Mia was opening the door to the grandiose bath and starting the tap. Allura glanced nervously to the locked door to the bedchambers. Did she dare undress?

The spacious spa-like chamber began filling with a luxurious steam that made even Allura relax a little. She peeled the plastered sheet off of her and rose to her feet gingerly. Her body still felt weak.

"How long was I asleep?" She called to her young attendant as she moved toward the mirror on the dresser. She stared at the heavy piece of furniture against the wall, the black marble glinting in the firelight.

"I thought…" she shook her head once to clear her mind. Her memories were jumbling with her dreams, all too horrifying to properly process. Out of curiosity, Allura peeked at the side of the rich piece and gasped as she saw scratches in the marble. She looked down to her hands quickly and her eyes widened at the chipped, snagged and broken fingernails on her hands. She tucked her fingers into fists and exhaled.

The more she reflected on the last few hours, the more her concern rose.

"About three and a half hours," Mia replied from the bathroom. Allura's eyes widened further and she began pacing in a slow circle in the center of the room.

"So long?" She shot a worried look toward Mia as she paused in her tracks.

"His Majesty told me to let you rest as long as you needed," Mia explained. "I apologize for waking you, but when you started screaming in your sleep, I grew frightened."

"Don't trouble yourself over it, I'm pleased that you did," Allura replied with a shudder. Ghosts of the dream came to her mind and she resumed her pacing.

"Your bath is ready when you are."

Allura eyed the locked door warily before looking back to the inviting bath. With yet another exhale – her new tool to calm herself, she looked to her sweat-soaked clothes and decided to throw caution to the wind. After all the reckless decisions she had made recently, bathing seemed fairly safe in comparison.

As she stepped into the massive bathroom, Mia went to work helping the young princess undress. Allura blushed brightly and stepped away.

"It's alright, Mia, I… I can do this myself," she stammered.

"Are you certain?"

Allura nodded in response.

"Thank you for your assistance," she added.

Mia bowed and pointed out where the towels, robes, and other bath amenities were located near the basin.

"Please use whatever you like," she explained as she left the bathroom to give the woman her privacy. She watched as Allura closed the door to the bathroom before sitting down on the edge of the bed to wait.

* * *

 

Allura turned away from the heavy door and eyed the deep-seated, spa-sized bath. Mia had filled the recessed black basin with bubbling water. As she eyed the steam rolling off, the princess quickly realized how badly she wanted to be in the water.

After making quick work of her sweat-laden clothing, she carefully eased herself into the gentle water. The basin was large enough to hold several people. With a sickening feeling, Allura realized that it probably had. Regularly.

_Hold yourself together,_  she reminded herself as her panic began to rise again.  _This is what is best for your planet, and if you don't manage this perfectly, you'll lose them, too._ She grimaced and forced herself to take a deep breath. Her fluttering heart calmed to a semi-normal rhythm. She balled her hands into fists and forced one more exhale out before easing her back against the wall as the water lapped at her shoulders.

"This is what it means to be a leader," she said softly. "You are a servant to your people. They will always come first," she reaffirmed before allowing herself to fully settle into the bath. The reminder of her people gave her strength.  _I can endure anything if it keeps them safe._

The slightest hint of a smile touched at her lips for the first time as she nodded resolutely. Allura reached up fumbled with the knotted braid of hair. With a grunt of frustration, the locks tore free from their tussled confines and fell around her. Ducking under water, she ran her fingers through her hair to loosen the knots.

"Great stars, I must have really tossed and turned to do this," she muttered after she surfaced and continued to paw at the hair. Satisfied with most of the knots undone, she proceeded to bathe with the seemingly expensive bath products. The items set out for her were decidedly feminine and appeared otherwise unused. Allura found a strange relief that she wasn't handling something than had been used by another woman. She froze in her motions as a stunning realization struck her.  _I'd… …I think I would rather use something personal of Lotor's himself than one of his… females'…_  She stared dumbly at the wall across the room from her while her mind failed to process the absurdity of the thought.

"How strange," she murmured to herself as the shock wore off and she returned to her ministrations.

After a lengthy duration of washing and soaking, Allura finally decided she was finished. Rising from the bath, she stepped carefully onto the smooth floor. She toweled off with the large white towel plucked from the vanity before crawling into a plush robe that dwarfed her small, human body. Once certain the belt was secure, the princess took a deep breath and looked toward the door.

_You can do this. Just think of Arus,_  she encouraged herself. She reached for the door, only to freeze as she heard murmuring on the other side. Her recently acquired bravery waned sharply as she recognized the deep tone of Lotor's voice.

She leapt back from the door as if it had shocked her.

"I can't, I can't…" She murmured to herself, shaking her head as her fear escalated. "I can't go out there." Tears budded in the corners of her eyes.

_He could have marched right on in,_  she reminded herself, as if it would change her mind.  _But I'm not dressed!_  There was simply no end to the level of indecency she was experiencing with the man. First his castle, then his bedchambers.  _I will NOT go out in front of him in a mere robe._

"I don't have much dignity left, but that doesn't mean I'll just throw the rest away," she muttered and began pacing around the bathroom, feeling more like a caged animal with each passing second.

A knock at the door stopped her in her tracks.

"M’Lady? Is everything alright? You've been in there a while. Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you!" Allura called loudly. She winced as her voice trembled. When the handle on the door turned, Allura flew across the room to stop it. The door opened a crack and Mia stuck her head in just as Allura arrived.

"Oh, you're finished," she said. Allura peered around the girl to study the room. The prince was nowhere in sight. She exhaled in relief and let the door swing open the rest of the way.

"Yes," she admitted sheepishly.

"How long have you been finished?"

"Not long," she said uncomfortably as Mia led the way out of the bathroom and gestured for Allura to take a seat on the bed. She settled in behind her and promptly began to gently untangle and brush out her wet hair. "I just… I thought I had heard…"

"Oh, His Majesty was here. He was asking about your condition," Mia informed her. Allura felt her heart stutter in fear.

"Oh dear," she murmured breathlessly.

"He wanted to know if you had awakened yet. He left to attend to dinner," she explained. Allura wasn't certain she could eat anything with the way her stomach kept knotting itself.

"He really shouldn't bother," she murmured aloud. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh but you must eat! It's been too long since your last meal and your body is weakened. You need your strength!"

_Arus needs my strength._  The recurring mantra of her planet once more renewed her fortitude.

"Very well," she said with a shaky sigh. Mia finished combing through Allura's locks and the princess sifted her fingers through them. "Thank you, it's a relief to have it clean and free of knots."

"Shall we?" Mia had moved from the bed and taken the pink and gold gown from where it was hanging. "I'm sure you would feel more comfortable in something like this," she added. Allura nodded and rose from the bed. "I can either assist you, M'Lady, or I can turn my back, if you prefer."

"I can do this myself," she said.

"As you command." Mia laid the gown out on the bed before going to a dresser drawer and withdrawing proper undergarments.

"I… I'm… I can't use those. That's a line I can't cross." Allura shook her head and walked back into the bathroom to retrieve her own clothes. She folded the fatigues up and set them near the boots by the bed and retained her own intimates.

"Oh don't worry, they're new!"

"I…" She stared at the girl, dumbstruck. "I can't… I can't be comfortable in intimates that  _he_  picked out. I need my own," she explained. The bath products had been strange enough. The underclothing was simply a place she wasn't willing to go, and she certainly wasn't about to wear nothing beneath the gown. Her own would simply have to do until she managed to get back to Arus.

"As you wish," Mia replied, feeling confused. She shut the dresser drawer before turning to face a corner, granting the woman her privacy.

Allura stared at the silken fabric on the bed and the white lace in her hands before eyeing the door warily. She took a deep breath and flung off the robe. Never in her life had Allura dressed as quickly, terrified he would walk back in at any moment.

She pulled the dress on over her head and wiggled into it. The tailoring was immaculate. The gown truly had been crafted specifically for her. It settled into place around her body as if it had been woven with her inside of it.

"Finished," she said after a moment of appreciative silence. Mia turned around and came to stand behind Allura, drawing the lacing in the back closed and tying it gently. She guided the princess to stand in front of a floor-length mirror while she worked with her hair. Her steady hands drew the golden locks back into an elegant braid before wrapping it up into a bun on top of her head. She pinned the bun into place with sapphire-crested pins, forming a halo of stones that matched her eyes.

As Mia finished, Allura turned sideways to inspect the rest of the gown. The pink satin shimmered in the flickering firelight and the golden fibers edging the entire garment appeared to radiate their own light in the dark room. The design of the gown was distinctly Drule with the way it hugged each curve carefully and left her shoulders completely bare. The coloring, however, shadowed her usual outfit of choice nearly perfectly.

Allura found herself begrudgingly impressed by his attention to detail. Why he had opted for the shape to be more form fitting and revealing than she was used to, she could easily hazard a guess.

"Are you displeased?" Mia's question startled the princess from her train of thought and she realized she was scowling.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. Thank you," she said. Allura turned in a circle. The gown was snug down to her hips and from there it flared out as she spun. The laces from the tie in the back also moved effortlessly, the quality of the fabric evident by its flow.

Snug sleeves ran from the top of her biceps to her forearms, leaving her shoulders and décolletage on display.

"Here, M’Lady," Mia continued as she brought out a parade of shoes for her to choose from.

_How in the world does he know my size? It's a little frightening,_  she thought.

"The white flats will do," she murmured.  _Easier to run in._  She stepped into the shoes and Mia nodded her approval.

"You look stunning," she said. "Can I do anything else for you?"

"I'm alright, thank you. And thank you for looking after me, and the bath and… everything," she finished with a weak smile. She eased herself down onto the edge of the bed and exhaled, once more trying to calm her nerves.

Mia sat next to her and wordlessly took one of her hands into her lap and began to gently file at the tattered nails.

"You noticed those?" Allura was surprised at the woman's keen eye.

"The Prince did," she replied, not lifting her eyes from her grooming. She missed the look of shock on Allura’s face. Halfway through the first hand, a click at the door caused both girls to jump.

Allura felt her stomach twist into a painful knot as Lotor stepped into the room, his eyes instantly pinning her. Her breath froze in her lungs as she stared back. Mia went back to her diligent work of caring for her charge's hands. She trembled a little, relieved her master's eyes weren't on her. She took Allura's other hand and began working as the prince spoke.

"You're looking better," he commented. "Much better." His words had almost sounded sincere until his gaze dropped over the dress that hugged her like liquid. Allura's trepidation vanished as anger flooded her senses.

"You beast," she hissed at him. Mia's eyes widened at the tone she took with the man. When Lotor only threw his head back and laughed darkly, a shiver ran down the slave's spine.

"I try," he said once he had finished. He flashed a lethal grin at her that chilled her blood. "Am I really so bad though, Allura? I'm giving you everything you ever wanted! Peace for your people, a loving husband…"

She shot him a dangerous look back.

"The only thing you love is yourself," she snapped back.

"That's not true," he strode forward into the room, causing Mia to leap up and out of the way. Allura rose to her feet elegantly and stared him down with cold determination.

_Do not run,_  she thought to herself.  _Stand your ground._ _Stay proud. For Arus._

He stopped directly in front of her and stared down into her defiant gaze. Their bodies didn't touch, but an electricity sparked in the air between them.

"I'll have your love yet, my dear," he said, reaching out to take her chin gently with one hand. His other hand came up to touch her cheek, and with a surprisingly gentle stroke on her face, he began to lean in.

Allura instantly pulled back, but when his hands became firm with her, she responded in the only way she knew how.

She slapped him.

"Dammit, woman!" Lotor stumbled backward as the reprimand caught him by surprise. He glared at Allura's stoic body. After a beat of enraged silence passed between them, he exhaled. He looked to the slave cowering in the corner. "You're excused. Return to the others," he instructed coldly. He fixed his eyes back on Allura while he continued speaking. "I'd like some time _alone_ with my new fiancée."


	4. Predominance

Lotor grinned as he watched Allura's expression change from fiery passion to cold terror.

Mia needed no further instructions as she bolted from the room, terrified of the brutal crown prince.

"I have _nothing_ to say to you," she huffed, grasping desperately for her courage as the door closed behind him. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose up.

"Well, then we don't have to talk," he sauntered back toward her lazily, his eyes looking over the new gown she was wearing.

"Don't come near me!" Allura’s feeble determination melted rapidly at the dark look in his eyes.  Her fear flourished as she backpedaled. He took his time moving toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. Each stride was languid and relaxed as he approached, savoring the adrenaline high of an apex hunter.

Allura's hip bumped against the dresser and when she glanced down in surprise, Lotor pounced. By the time Allura looked back to him, he had both hands on the dresser on either side of her body, his face inches from hers.

She screamed.

The noise was a shrill howl of surprise and terror as she cowered away from him, trapped against the very piece of furniture she had tried to take shelter behind only hours earlier. Even Lotor winced at the desperation in the noise before his hand came up to cover her mouth.

She twisted in his arms, frantically struggling to get away. Allura threw her weight in the direction of the hand on her mouth in an attempt to catapult her body through the opening he had created. He cursed as his grasp slipped and he reached out to snare her arm.

Allura felt the vice of a grip clamp down on her wrist and before she knew it, something solid connected with her back. She gasped for air as she slammed into the wall, wincing in pain. Her ragged yelp startled the prince and he loosened his hold on her slender joint. He did not, however, surrender his stance. Lotor continued to pin her to the wall bodily for the second time. Allura trembled as he stared down at her, chuckling softly as she tried to push him away.

"Please," she finally whimpered as his finger tucked under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. Allura forsook her dignity as she sniffled, tear streaks running down her face. Before he caught himself, he absentmindedly brushed them away with his thumb.  He studied her for a moment, his other hand gently massaging her wrist.  He hadn’t meant to grasp her so roughly; it had been a purely instinctual reaction to her quick escape attempt.

"It's time for dinner, Allura," he said at last, surprising the princess. She blinked, her oceanic eyes widening in shock. He stroked away the last of the tears to fall and took a step back.

"What," she whispered, her bottom lip still trembling.

"Dinner," he repeated. "I've decided we will dine on one of the balconies instead of in here. After all, you're not a prisoner," he said. He remained very close to her body, still studying her perfect features. "Come," he instructed, turning and making his way to the door.

Lotor didn't wait for Allura to follow him, his hand stayed on her wrist as he led her behind him. The princess was dazed from her near-meltdown and she followed without protest. Her body felt numb as she trailed behind, glancing around the corridor.

Her stomach curled again at the sight of the torches on the wall; the lighting of the hallway reminiscent of her most recent nightmare. She swallowed nervously, actually allowing Lotor to guide her.  _Be strong. Be brave for Arus._  Releasing an exhale, she once again calmed her escalating heart rate.

"So, you weren't lying!  Hah!"

Allura nearly wretched on the spot.  _No. Not him._  Lotor paused and turned to look over his shoulder. Allura took one shaking breath to try and steady herself before she did the same. Sure as the dawn rose over Arus, Zarkon was ambling toward them.  _Please no. Stars above, please don't try me this hard, I can't... there's only so much..._  She glanced up as Lotor made it a point to step forward, placing himself bodily between them. Allura had no intention of protesting.

"What of it, Father?" Lotor's tone was clipped and tense. His body language belied the same sentiment. Allura doubted anyone could want to be anywhere else more than she did in that moment, but the prince did seem to share her thoughts to a degree.

Zarkon stopped in front of the couple and peered around his son at the shielded princess.

"Finally decided to wed my idiot of a son, did you? He wore you down?"

Allura stayed quiet, watching the sovereign king of the Drule Empire as he judged her.  _Be brave._

After a moment of resolute silence, Zarkon shrugged nonchalantly, untroubled by the Arusian’s presence. He tossed her a dangerous grin.

"Well, I will say this," he began carefully. Allura bristled but remained silent. "Going this far to find peace for your people... Wouldn't your father just be  _so proud_  of you right now?"

Allura's rage echoed off the hallway as Zarkon dragged Alfor into the cesspool she found herself trapped in.

"Don't you  _dare_  speak of him, you vile monster!" Her scream startled both the Drules and Allura turned to Lotor in his moment of surprise. "Unhand me!" With a vicious yank to her arm, she wretched free, pushed off the prince and bolted down the hallway. Zarkon’s rancorous laughter echoed as she clamped her hands down over her ears, tears flowing freely down her cheeks unchecked. Her fury collided with her fear explosively inside her and for a single, terrifying moment, Allura wasn't sure what she was capable of. An unfamiliar lust for violence laced her veins.

_End him_ , it whispered, much to her horror.

"Father!" Lotor turned a frustrated look on the chuckling king.

"I'll admit son, she is a pretty piece of flesh, especially when she's fleeing," he commented darkly. With another shrug he turned away as Lotor started sprinting after the woman. "Idiot son of mine," Zarkon muttered as he headed back toward the throne room.

* * *

 

Allura careened around a corner in the hallway. She didn't know to where she was fleeing, but the last place she wanted to be was near Zarkon himself. When she collided bodily with someone, the princess cried out in both anger and fright, glancing up to see a surprised Cossack looking down at her.

"Beast!" She pushed off of him and continued running.

"What'd I do?" The befuddled man watched, stunned as Lotor skidded around the same corner in hot pursuit. "Sire, did I just see Princess-"

"Yes, yes you did," he called out as he continued sprinting after her, in no mood to explain to his subordinate what was afoot in the castle.

He cursed her agility. When she had a head start and got out of the range of his physical grasp, she was difficult to catch.

Allura turned another corner and paused just briefly enough to try a set of double doors in the wall. They opened, revealing a library. She flung herself into the inviting room and quickly moved among the shelves to find a suitable hiding place to recover her strength and catch her breath.

Dropping down to her hands and knees, Allura found a dead-end corner hidden behind the shelves with a small table. She crawled under the table and drew her knees to her chest as she tightened down her control on her fear. Crying would only spoil her hiding place. Nestled among the shelves in a seemingly unused library, she  _almost_  felt safe.

Until the door creaked as someone else entered.

She pressed her shoulder into the bookcase near her and curled up tighter. Allura closed her eyes and prayed.  _Please let it not be Zarkon._ Footsteps echoed off the cold ground as someone moved slowly around the modestly-sized room.  _Be strong. For Arus._

The mantra in her mind drastically lost its potency when she was staring down the warlord king himself. She curled up on the cold floor, arms over her head as she cowered pathetically under the table, holding her breath. The footsteps paused.

"Allura? It's me." It was the first time Lotor's voice had brought any sense of consolation to her. She gasped softly and unfolded, gently rising to her feet as he came around the corner at the sound of her breath. She looked toward him before looking away, a blush staining her cheeks.

"I should have controlled my temper," she murmured after a moment.

"He baited you intentionally."

"Still." She looked chagrined and flustered as she folded her arms across her waist self-consciously. "It shouldn't get to me."

"Come, dinner still awaits us." She glanced over to him. He didn't approach for once, instead allowing her the space she needed. Allura stayed still, judging the distance between them.  Lotor waited patiently and after seconds became moments, he canted his head to the side to study her, but still did not press his impatience. 

Allura watched him thoughtfully.  Another moment passed before she exhaled and broke the standoff.  She nodded demurely and moved toward Lotor cautiously.

He regarded her intensely for a moment before leading the way back out of the library. To his surprise, she followed him without complaint or resistance. Her demeanor was quiet, her rage subdued.

Wordlessly, he led the way down the corridor toward the balcony where their meal had been prepared. Only once did she stall hesitantly: as she left the library, she paused in the doorway to eye the hallway cautiously, as if worried Zarkon would leap out of the shadows for her. Patiently, he waited for her and within a moment's time, she had rejoined him, continuing to walk quietly at his side.

"Allura?" He looked down at her as he spoke, catching her eyes as she raised them to meet his. She didn't answer his question verbally, but the look he received from her told him he had her attention. "What are you thinking right now?"

She returned her gaze forward and shrugged noncommittally. It was a fair answer; she had no actual thoughts at the moment and therefore no answer for him.

Lotor stopped walking and touched her shoulder gently. Allura paused in her tracks but kept her back to him, a pace in front.

"Talk to me," he instructed, frustrated when he didn't get his way. "What are you feeling right now?"

"Overwhelmed." She spun on heel to face him, her gown flaring around her calves as she did so. "There's only so much I can take, Lotor," she murmured. "I feel... _exhausted_."

He studied her for a moment before speaking.

"My father has the unfortunate habit of turning up when you least want to see him."

"That's all the time for me," she murmured wearily.

He reached for her suddenly but stopped himself, instead settling to just nudge her elbow lightly with his hand.

"Let's eat, Allura. You need strength now," he said. He pushed open a door and led her out onto an open balcony. She froze in the doorway, looking at the covered table set out for them. Dishes and cups overflowed with food, but more remarkable was the sky overhead. With a gasp, she wandered toward the railing on the balcony and stared heavenward.

"It's... actually beautiful," she murmured in surprise. While Doom was covered in clouds nearly constantly, the intense magnetic field that shielded the planet interacted with the energy particles from the solar wind. The resulting phenomenon was a rainbow-hued back lighting to the cacophonous storm clouds, reminiscent of the occasional aurora found on Arus.

Lotor's eyes never left her form as she braced against the railing, her eyes on the sky as her gown billowed in the breeze that danced around them.

"It's even more magnificent in the aftermath of a robeast defeat," he said after a moment. When Allura surprised him by turning to look his way suddenly, he continued. "The ions that the Blazing Sword of Voltron emits create even more colors in the sky.  The battle doesn’t even need to be near Doom for us to see the effect here," he elaborated. Her eyes were focused on him with an intensity he was unused to. Allura's body coiled with tension as the fabric she donned bustled around her, giving her an altogether powerful and ethereal glow in the starlight.

"I... never knew," she said after a moment. "We don't... usually linger."

"Don't you have the effect on Arus?"

She shook her head at his question, retiring from the railing to move toward the centrally-situated table. Lotor was at her side in a moment, drawing her chair out for her. She tossed him a confused look before settling in as he took his own seat across from her.

"Arus isn't nearly as magnetized as Doom. We have varying weather, sometimes clouds, other times clear skies. Once in a while, with our solar wind is right, we'll see the lights across the sky. But not ever like that," she added, glancing back to the pulsating hues. When Lotor didn't respond right away, she continued. "Arus has its own beauty though. On a clear night, there are thousands of stars in the sky overhead. A crisp breeze rolls across the plains..." she trailed off with a soft wince, remembering her home.

"You can go back, you know. Any time after the ceremony," he reminded her gently as he began to consume the meal before him. Allura just cast a sad sigh and looked to the table for her own meal.

Magnificent servings circled her from salads to sirloin. Delicacies from different planets beckoned her taste but Allura did not feel hungry. She smiled forlornly at the food.

"Eat," he instructed. Allura frowned, sending a dangerous look his way. She felt a twinge of her anger flare at the order.  She quickly softened.

"I'm not hungry at the moment," she admitted, keeping a check on her temper.

"You still need to eat," he insisted. Allura's chilly gaze leveled him at him and he paused. He shot her a lethal grin in response. "I can't have my wife fainting at our wedding tomorrow, now can I?"

Allura blanched. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose, struggling to calm her sudden panic.

"Beast," she whispered through a clenched jaw. "You said that on purpose."

"Don't be afraid, my dear."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, calming a modicum. "You're not surrounded by enemies."  Her eyes flashed open, locking on him across the table. When he tilted his head to the side in question, she elaborated. "Do you not think that any one person on this planet would want me dead?"

"Not I," he said after a moment. "And in less than a day's time, that will be the only answer that will matter.” She looked down to her full plate in front of her and just shook her head, sitting daintily in her chair.

"They'll assassinate me," she said after another quiet moment. Lotor paused in his meal.

"Who would dare defy me?"

"It wouldn't matter. Once I'm dead, I'm gone. If they see me as a threat to the Empire, that will be all that matters. ...Lotor," she paused, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment. "What happens to our agreement if I'm... removed from the picture?"

"That's not possible," he grumbled, digging in to the steak before him irritably. Allura looked back to the mystic skyline, pondering her situation.

"But it could,” she pressed, unable to look to him. “Would you go to my planet and enslave my people if I'm not here to stop you?" Lotor paused at her question. His first response bubbled to his lips but he stalled. He glanced across the table to the ashen-faced pillar of endurance staring at the sky before him. She deserved an honest answer.

He permitted himself to contemplate a reality that Allura did not exist in, and he felt his insides revolt. A cold, dangerous fury washed over him.

"There would be hell to pay," he grumbled, spearing a piece of meat angrily. When she turned her sad eyes on him, he faltered.

"I'm taking a great risk on my own life, Lotor, to try and protect my planet. What happens if I'm wrong in all of this? What happens to _them_?" Her hands folded gently in front of her on the table.  He swore under his breath and set his cutlery down angrily.

"If…  _If_  someone were clever and skilled enough to attempt  _and_  succeed at something like that… they would live out the remainder of their life in unrelenting agony. …And everything we spoke of would be honored on behalf of the Drule Empire," he added quietly.

Allura frowned slightly. She looked away from him to eye her hands in front of her as she toyed with her fingers. There was something strange in his words that she couldn't quite place. His tone was jagged and uncomfortable. There was a raw emotion in it she wasn't used to hearing from the arrogant heir. He sounded almost... _disturbed_ by the prospect.

"Thank you," she said, her fingertips touching delicately in front of her. After a second, she breathed out a sigh of relief. The noise that came from her sounded strangely like a giggle, but the disjointed articulation was hollow. Lotor eyed her carefully as she caught her breath. "I am relieved to hear that.  That alleviates some of my burden."

"To hear that your people will still be safe if someone successfully murders you?" The horror that threaded his words didn't go unnoticed. Allura looked up to him coolly.

"Yes," she said. Her people were her pride and legacy. Even in death, their safety was her responsibility. "I don't ever want harm to come to them. That is my one wish," she finally admitted. She stared the dangerous prince down across the table as she uttered her deepest desire before him. When his chiseled face remained unreadable, Allura fidgeted nervously.

"They're that important to you, aren't they?" He put another bite of roasted flesh past his lips as he watched her closely.

She only nodded a little, still twisting her fingers together nervously in front of her. "My father's approach… and now mine in his stead, has always been that the ruler serves the people, not the other way around. I am the one with the power to protect, to heal and to give. It should be my duty to do so," she murmured.

"That then would make it your responsibility to bear their burdens and strife," he said darkly. To his surprise, she just nodded.

"Exactly."

He frowned at her answer.

"That's not fair to you; you end up carrying the weight for something you had nothing to do with," he said slowly. Her approach to ruling surprised him. It was not a method he had seen before. The people were supposed to serve the king.

"And it is my honor, duty and pleasure to do so," she reiterated, sending him a sharp look. "To have enough strength to carry the weight of the planet means I am able to do what I need to.  That I am _worthy_ of them."

"No one has that strength, Allura! If you carry it for them, you'll be crushed beneath it!"

"That remains to be seen." Her tone was cold as she referenced her current situation. "With humility, grace and integrity, Arus will rise again from the ruins," she murmured, turning her gaze away from him. "I can't imagine that you would understand what it's like to piece together a civilization brick by brick, and restore their faith and trust in you.  To claw your way out of the cesspits of ruin and stand again, surrounded by loss and rubble, and actually _make_ something great from it."

The silence that hung between them as she finished her ramble was pregnant with tension. After a moment, Lotor abated it with a simple command.

"Eat."

She scowled and made a prominent display of plucking up a single piece of bread and biting off a piece in front of him. She set the rest of it down on her plate and stared at him as she swallowed.

"Satisfied?"  She challenged.

"I am  _never_  satisfied," he articulated coldly, eliciting a shiver down her spine.

"Insatiable monster," she replied, glaring across the table at him. She paused in her fury and considering her next words carefully. "Does  _anything_  please you?" She scowled at him.

"You," he replied simply. She swallowed nervously.

"Tomorrow then," she changed the subject. It was obvious she wasn't going to get anywhere with him. "What's the plan?"

"It will be a relatively short ceremony on both counts. The wedding and the coronation," he explained as he finished his meal. "It will have a small audience as well. Drule power transitions are swift. We cannot afford to let those who would intervene know that they are even happening before they conclude." Allura stared at him with open surprise as he continued. "It will start mid-morning and end before noon. Once everything is set in stone, then the celebrations will begin and that may last into the late night, possibly next morning," he explained.

"Is there anything I should know?"

He studied her thoughtfully from across the table and shook his head once.

"No, I've taken care of everything."

Allura trembled as she nodded once.

"Of course you have," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "I'm going to retire then for the night, so I can be awake for tomorrow." She rose from the table. There was a moment's hesitation as her strength wavered. She regained it and regally adjourned from the lavish meal.

Lotor looked over the table and noted she had only eaten the single bite from the piece of bread. He scoffed.

_Am I wrong?_ His mind fluttered irritatingly.  _Of course not. I'm never wrong. I am on the brink of having everything I ever desired. She'll be fine. She will learn that there is no better place than at my side._

He frowned as he sipped his wine. He wanted to believe the sentiment, but even as he thought it, doubt subtly threaded the validity. He shook his head again to clear it. It didn't matter.

Tomorrow would change everything.


	5. Promise

Allura sat somberly at the vanity. With her back erect and proud, she watched as Mia paid careful attention tucking her hair up into an elegant bun on her head. She was draped in, surprisingly, the white and pink gown she had chosen for herself the day before. Either it had been cleaned or there existed more than one as the linens were fresh.

The familiar sapphire pins laced her hair and held a gossamer veil up. The sheer fabric framed her visage and fell down around her hair and shoulders in an ethereal manner rather than cloak her face. She closed her eyes with a sigh. Marriage had never been something she had fantasized about as a young girl. She didn't have a dream wedding, a perfect husband or splendid gown planned out – but she couldn't say she ever expected to be sitting in Castle Doom while one of Lotor’s slaves prepared her for the ceremony.  Accepting assistance from Mia felt wrong to Allura, but she worried the pleasant woman might feel his aggression if she didn't allow her help.

"Oh M’lady, did the pin hurt you? I'm so sorry!" She leaned over and dabbed at the tears that formed in the corners of the princess' eyes.

"No, Mia, you're fine, thank you," Allura murmured, wiping away the moisture. Once the girl had finished with Allura's hair, she reached for the Arusian tiara. With slender grace, she placed the familiar ornament on her forehead. Allura stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked _foreign_. Her skin was too pale; her eyes too far away. The gown wasn't right – it was the correct color but the design was wrong.

Mia stepped back and looked over the woman thoughtfully.

"You look stunning, Princess," she said.

"Thank you," Allura replied dejectedly. Her voice cracked slightly as she continued to regard herself in the mirror. It had, ironically, been the first night she had slept with any degree of restfulness. Despite the morning's daunting task, Allura had slept without a nightmare. Lotor had miraculously left her alone once she had adjourned herself from dinner. Perhaps her fatigue had finally caught up with her and forced her into unconsciousness.

"The ceremony will begin soon, M’lady," Mia said quietly from the doorway. "We should head to the staging area," she advised. Allura stared at her forlornly before nodding once. She rose from the vanity, her expression sorrowful. To her credit, she  _did_  try to hide her lament behind a cold exterior, but the sadness was etched into her very being in a way that was impossible to hide entirely. She followed behind Mia, moving demurely down the hallway.

The brunette paused in front of a door and knocked. A guard opened it and upon seeing Allura, beckoned her inside. She acquiesced with no resistance.

Inside the cozy parlor, a handful of sofas and chairs were strewn around as people involved in the ceremony prepared for it to begin. She paused at the sight of Lotor. He paced with uncharacteristic nervousness near a door at the far end of the room, dressed in formal black and gold. He bore his infamous skull belt and lazon sword, but everything else about his attire was polished and formal in a way she was unused to.

As the door clicked shut behind her with Mia's departure, Lotor froze. He appeared to hesitate a moment before turning to look directly at her. Allura felt her breath hitch at the intensity in his gaze. With a few rapid strides he was in front of her, his eyes roaming her like a man lost in the desert finding water.

She fidgeted uncomfortably.

"So here we are," she whispered for lack of anything else to say. He stared at her a moment longer before nodding once.

"I'm still surprised," he admitted quietly.

"That makes two of us," she retorted dryly. She closed her eyes and looked away, letting her gaze sweep the room, lest she begin to cry in front of him. "So." She clasped her hands in front of her, wringing her fingers together. Her eyes washed over the dozen other serpentine eyes staring at her from various places in the parlor. She had managed to attain everyone's undivided attention, much to her discomfort. The Drule expressions were unreadable – Allura couldn't tell if they were angry, hateful or simply curious.  _How many of these people would kill me if they could? ...How many will try?_   She nibbled on her bottom lip, her nervousness threatening to bubble to the surface in the judgmental silence.

"Princess," a hand rested on her shoulder without warning and Allura spun around. Her eyes snapped up to look at the young woman staring down at her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Selna, and I'll be guiding you both through today."

"Oh, alright…" Allura's voice was soft and weaker than she would have liked, but she had very little courage left in her. "I'm-"

"Don't worry, we  _all_  know who you are." She flashed a grin at the girl and Allura flinched. If the gesture was meant to be comforting, the meaning was lost in the translation of the fanged smile. Selna gave the wary princess a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Here's how the next two hours are going to play out. Listen up, people!" She clapped her hands together suddenly her voice shifting from soft and gentle for Allura to louder and firm for the rest of the room. Allura shuffled away, grateful to be out of the center of attention. She dropped into an armchair to listen as it wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility that her body might not support her weight if she remained standing.

The Drule organizer cast a thoughtful look to the future queen and another faint smile laced her lips before she continued.

"The wedding will be short. The bride and groom will go out together, arm in arm. Before the throne, they'll exchange vows and bands," she explained, producing two gold bracelets, one substantially larger than the other. Allura blinked at the Drulish custom. She thought it just as well; the idea of wearing Lotor's ring still sent chills down her spine.

"After that, the coronation will take place. It, too, will be brief. Once that is concluded, however, we'll open the doors, make the announcements, and the celebration will take place. That… could last well into the early morning hours, depending on everyone’s energy," she finished. "Any questions? Everyone know their parts?"

"I…" Allura spoke up in the silence from her chair. "…I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she admitted with a blush. "Or say."

Selna just shook her head once.

"You have nothing to worry about. Any initiatives will be made by Prince Lotor, you need only follow his lead and stay by his side."

Allura just nodded mutely. She crossed her arms over her abdomen and hunched over, chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

"We begin in twenty, places everyone," she announced suddenly, causing Allura's stomach to lurch.

* * *

 

Never in her wildest nightmares had Allura ever imagined herself in the position she found herself. Standing at Lotor's side with both her arms draped over his forearm. The gossamer trails from her 'veil' fluttered down her back in lieu of her hair that was pinned up elegantly. To her surprise, while her nails clenched him a bit more fiercely than intended, she did not tremble. Had Lotor not been the piece of stoic pride and strength beside her, she might have ended up a puddle.

They stood before the door, and Allura stared at it apprehensively. Everything was about to change.

"Are you ready?" He glanced down at her, a victorious grin flashing across his face at the sight of his bride on his arm. Allura continued to stare straight ahead.

"Let's go," she murmured. She would _never_ be ready. Allura refused to meet his eyes and never caught the flash of understanding behind them. Wordlessly, he turned and looked to the door as it began to open in front of them.

She exhaled.  _Think of what you're doing. You are saving all of Arus. In this hour, you will write the golden future of your people as you make history. On the large scale of things, today is magnificent! Be strong. Be brave. Be proud,_ she thought. With renewed determination, she looked forward, her weakness dissolving. Today  _was_  a magnificent day for Arus, and in the end, that was all that mattered. Her hands clenched at Lotor's sleeve as the door finished opening. Blinding light surprised her before her eyes adjusted from the dimly lit room.

The throne room before them was not nearly as populated as she would have anticipated. Her eyes skimmed the audience quickly. Drules stood in handfuls, all eyes focused on her. She recognized some of the faces from notoriety – some of the most influential and powerful planetary leaders had gathered for the coronation.

She doubted they had come for the wedding.

Sweeping her gaze across the floor, her breathing hitched as Lotor began to lead them toward the base of the throne. Upon the mountain of stairs, Zarkon stood regally, watching her with an eerie intensity. She met his gaze with an equally calculated coolness, giving no hint of her fear or alarm. At his right, Haggar hovered, and Blue Cat was not far from his mistress.

_Surrounded by my enemies,_  she thought. She chanced her first glance to Lotor, startled by the realization that of all the people she found herself surrounded with,  _he_  was the most likely to be her ally.

Zarkon made his way down the throne path toward where the couple was headed. He paused a few steps from the bottom as Lotor brought her to a stop before him.

"And here we find ourselves," Zarkon announced to the room. "My son has finally taken a queen. …I would bet many of you lost a wager that he would ever get this one," he added with a dark chuckle. Allura's cheeks flushed crimson, but she bit her tongue. As her heart hammered in her chest at the laughter that rolled through the small crowd, she felt Lotor place his hand on top of both of hers on his arm. The gesture was… oddly comforting. Unfortunately, it was short-lived as he stepped away from her side so he could turn to face her before his father, but he retained his connection to her though his hold on her hands.

"The bands?" Zarkon glanced over as Selna brought forth the elaborate bracelets. He took the red satin pillow from the woman and offered them to Lotor first. He picked up the smaller of the two bands and looked to Allura. When she hesitated in confusion, he gently indicated her left hand. She started to extend her left and toward him and paused.

For a single, shimmering second, an entire plan of escape flashed through her mind.  _There's still time. You can run._ She glanced down to the way Lotor held her right hand, to Zarkon on her left and the crowd of Drules surrounding them expectantly.  _Run now!_ She pressed her eyes closed tightly and shook her head once.

She curled her hand into a fist and in a subtle gesture of her greatest defeat, she relaxed her hand and offered it toward him as she opened her eyes again. Allura found a dark pleasure in the fact that it did not tremble.

Zarkon muttered something about by accepting the bands, each would accept the other as mate. Allura didn't catch most of it; she was far too fascinated by the slender gold band that seemed to fit her wrist perfectly.

"Allura?"

She glanced up suddenly, startled. Her eyes flitted from Zarkon to Lotor.

"Allura, they're waiting for you to confirm your loyalty to me," he murmured softly, not at all surprised nor put off that she wasn't able to follow everything that was happening. Half the words had been in Drule to begin with.

"I… yes, I do," she murmured softly. As she uttered the last two words, the dainty metal around her wrist felt more like a shackle than a piece of jewelry.

Zarkon nodded once and continued. He held out the pillow with the larger band toward the girl, and after taking a deep breath to keep her hands from shaking, she lifted it up between both her palms. As the king finished what he was saying, Lotor extended his left hand to the princess. With everyone's eyes on her, Allura draped the perfectly craft piece of jewelry over his wrist. Where hers was slim and light, his was solid and resembled a piece of armor. She found herself vaguely marveling at how well-crafted each piece was.

"I do," Lotor said, startling Allura from her trance. She glanced up suddenly.

"Excellent," Zarkon said. "Seal your arrangement with a kiss, and this will be concluded."

Allura's eyes widened. _Did he say-_ Before she could protest, Lotor's arm was around her waist, the other tilting her chin back. His lips crushed into hers with a thirsty passion that left Allura breathless. Cheers erupted from the audience and the princess felt her skin heat in embarrassment. Lotor devoured her so quickly, he gave her no opportunity to strike him in the face. Her hands flailed awkwardly for a moment before settling on his biceps. Despite her fury, she understood how _extraordinarily_  inappropriate it would be to strike him in indignant wrath.

Lotor took great pleasure in her restraint as he drunk in the taste, the scent and the pure, unbridled passion of her for the first time. By the time he released her, Allura was nearly dizzy from lack of air. She caught her breath and stepped back from him weakly. Lotor only flashed triumphant grin.

"On to the coronation," Zarkon announced. Allura took her cue to continue to back away, happily giving Lotor the center stage and attention of the gathered audience as she scowled at his brazenness. Selna was hovering nearby as Allura stepped into the background. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder again, pacifying Allura’s irritation at the warlord.

"Well done," she murmured. Allura gasped and looked to the Drule in surprise. Something in the woman's eyes helped calm her nerves. She just shook her head once. "You were very strong," she praised covertly.

"I'm just glad the attention is off me," she replied softly, glancing down and flicking the bracelet with her fingers.  _Great stars, I'm married now,_  she thought with blatant disbelief.

"Mm, for now," she murmured mysteriously. Before Allura could say anything else, Selna had left her side and disappeared into the crowd. The Arusian looked back as Lotor bowed and Zarkon removed his crown from his own head and reverently placed it upon his son's. With the same, slow, movement, he withdrew the cape that clasped over his shoulder and placed it over Lotor's shoulder. Cheers erupted from the small crowd as the coronation completed. Allura smiled weakly.

At least it was over.

"And now, for my queen," he announced.

Allura blinked.

"My dear, please come join me," he continued. Allura glanced around uncomfortably before hesitantly making her way toward him. He smiled down at her.

"As king, it is now my duty, honor, and absolute  _pleasure_ , to crown my queen."

Allura felt her breath catch as she stood before the former prince. She watched as Lotor reached into an intricately carved wooden chest and produced a lovely, golden crown. It was similar in style to his own, but smaller and significantly more feminine. It was dainty and majestic in every way that Allura was. She stared numbly at the turn of events.

Her hands trembled for the first time as she reached to remove her Arusian tiara.

"Leave it," his voice was a command out loud, but as he moved closer to her, his tone softened and quieted for her ears only. "This was made just for you. It was designed to accommodate  _all_  the duties and roles you embrace," he explained, settling the crown on her head.

It meshed perfectly with her tiara and even clicked into place, making both pieces of headwear a single ornament by design as her tiara became the bottom edge of the elegant crown. She could only gasp in surprise.

He turned away for a moment, reaching back into the chest. From it, he withdrew a stunning shawl the color of midnight. Allura stepped back, stunned.

"Why, my dear, you are the queen," he explained as he settled the fabric over her shoulders. He secured the satin around her bare shoulders with the golden royal crest, and stepped back to admire the woman he had coveted for so long. Standing beneath a Drule Queen's crown and robes, she looked magnificent and wholly confused.

Lotor only grinned appreciatively. With a flourish, he spun away from her to face the small gathering behind him.

"I present to you, my fearsome and loyal subjects, your new queen; the Illustrious Queen Allura of the Drule Empire!" He reached out and took her by the hand, tugging her forward to stand beside him. Boisterous cheering and congratulatory sounds echoed around the room. Allura found herself surprisingly grateful for the possessive arm he snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side. His hand splayed wide on her hip as he held her near his body. Half-tucked into his broad frame, she felt only half as vulnerable before the surly group of Drules surrounding her. As the highest-ranked members of the Empire beneath the king himself, Allura as well-aware that the men – and equal number of women – were accomplished warriors. Positively lethal in combat, they had risen to the top of their ranks by being ruthless, bloodthirsty and unforgiving, and she had no idea with what sort of temperament they viewed her new station. If Allura were perceived as a threat, or even a minor inconvenience, she knew she was as good as dead, no matter what Lotor said.

"Make the announcement and open the doors! There will be much celebration today!" The former king waved his other hand in the air, and guardsmen pulled open the large double doors. Crowds of people lingered outside – the denizens of the planet had been informed of an important announcement, but nothing prepared them for the sight of their prince in full king's regalia with a very demure human woman tucked to his side.

Silence erupted into cacophonous cheering as everyone realized the splendid news without a word being uttered. Chants of "Long live King Lotor!" broke out among the thousands of ordinary citizens gathered both in the main hall and stretching outside the castle.

Allura stared out at the mass of people chanting, cheering and celebrating the new king. As Lotor moved closer to the group to address them, Allura burrowed back and slipped from his grasp. She did  _not_ desire to be spotlighted any longer.

He tossed her a devastating smirk as he went to speak to his people. Allura backed into the throne room, clasping her hands in front of her. Cries of celebration broke out outside as the revelries began. She distinctly heard Lotor speaking, but his deep voice was lost in the reverberation of everyone's cheers and screams.

"Ah, not interested in the festivities?"

Allura's heart shot to her throat and she felt the blood drain from her face. She glanced up to meet the cold gaze of the former king looking down at her. She afforded him a stiff shake of her head before turning and quickly walking away from him. His dark chuckle echoed off the walls before she broke into a sprint toward the door to the parlor she had come from.

She shut the door behind her and rested her back against it. Her chest heaved with ragged gasps as she calmed her racing heart. After a second of focused breathing, Allura opened her eyes.

She screamed.

"Oh hey, what the heck is that for?! C'mon now," Cossack's voice whined at her in surprise as he stood near the small refreshment stand in the corner of the staging room. "I just wanted a drink, what gives?"

She blinked at him in open surprise as he sipped some wine.

"It's really good, do you want some?" He offered her a glass. Allura shook her head mutely in response, staring with open surprise at the man she had often come to blows with on the battle field. "Ah well, your loss. Why aren't you out there with the party, anyway?" He refilled his glass before looking to her.

"I… didn't feel like it," she said after a moment of contemplation. The surrealism of the situation had caught her off-guard.

"Oh, fair enough," he said casually. "I never cared for social situations myself. Too much talking to people," he conspired with her. Allura found her lips curling up slightly at the strange conversation she found herself in with a former enemy. _Perhaps he was only an enemy because you were on two different sides of an objective,_  she thought. Allura had always believed in two sides to a story, but it had been difficult to see the other side when her entire planet's livelihood was on the line.

"Cossack, can you help me with something?" Allura found strength in her voice as she warmed up to the commander in the casual setting.

"Sure, as long as the king won't behead me for it. What do you need? It's technically my duty to serve you now, anyway," he added.

"Can you help me find a command center? I'd like to call Arus. …I'd like to tell them what's happening before they hear it from someone else. I don't want them to send the robot lions after me, and I think they very much will if I don't reach out to them first. Please," she added, folding her hands in front of her.

"…Straight to business already. Don't people party on your planet?"

Allura felt her lips curl up slightly at the corners at his offhand comment. He waved his hand dismissively and finished his wine.

"Sure, sure, I'll show you how to access the networks. It won't be secure, so, like, anyone can hear it, so just be careful what you say," he added. Allura nodded as Cossack led the way out of the small parlor.

Allura stood before the viewing screen on the small monitor kiosk before her. Her hands were clasped in front of her as the screen flashed. She waited, holding her breath as she hailed the Castle of Lions. After a tense minute, Coran answered.

"Coran!" Allura smiled in relief at the sight of her guardian.

"Princess, what the  _hell_  is going on?!" Keith's voice thundered from behind her advisor as he came into the screen. The rest of her team were quick behind him.

"So you've heard already," she said, shocked that the news had traveled so fast.

"We've been out scouring the stars for you after you just… _took off_  and  _this_  is what you have to show for it?" Keith fumed and Allura recoiled slightly. She had never seen her commander so angry.

"It's not what you think, Keith. It's actually quite complicated. I-"

"Don't you trust us? Didn't you believe we would rescue you? We were coming for you, Princess, why did you give up on us so quickly?"

Allura faltered. She hadn't considered how her actions appeared to anyone outside her agreement with Lotor.

"It's not what you think, Keith. I promise. It's far more complex, and I put a lot of thought into this. I'll explain when I return-"

"We will _fix_ this," he vowed. Allura held up her hands in a panic.

"Don't! Just… give me time to explain to you in person what is going on," she begged. She glanced to Cossack in the background who nodded at her choice of discretion.

"What does he have over your head? I'll kill him, I swear it."

"Keith," Allura began as the commander waved her off, turning and storming from the control tower. Allura looked to the other three team members and was met with expressions of pain and incomprehension.

"We could have helped, didn't you trust us?"

"Lance, it's so much more than it looks, I promise. I'll be back in a day or so, and I promise it will make sense," she tried to explain as vaguely as she could.

"Your friends are very cross with you right now, and they have every right to be. You made a very reckless decision and have thrown all of Arus and the Galaxy Alliance into grave danger," Coran said darkly.

"You don't understand!  I… I really can explain this all, I swear it. Just please, do _not_ send the lions after me. Everything is fine, I am safe," she added at the look her advisor shot her.

"Well, we will eagerly await a fantastic explanation to the recent decisions you have made. Hopefully Keith will have had time to calm down by then," he said with finality, ending the transmission.

Allura stared at the dark screen in front of her, tears flooding the corners of her eyes as her very friends hailed her with unadulterated fury. She sniffled a little and wiped her eyes.

"…You okay?"

Cossack's concern startled her and she glanced to where he was reclining against a wall in the corner in case she had any technical difficulties.

"I will be," she affirmed after a moment. "…that was supposed to be the easier of the two calls. I've never seen Keith so furious before," she murmured, looking back to the screen. "Okay, one more. …And it's probably going to be worse."

With trembling hands, she dialed the direct line to the Galaxy Alliance headquarters. Marshal Graham answered.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?!"

She winced at his words.  _So much for being the one to make the announcements,_  she thought dryly as he launched into a torrent of curses and damnation.

"I am making political maneuvers to better-"

"The bloody goddamn  _hell_  you are," he thundered back, shocking the new queen. She stepped back in surprise, regarding the man on the video feed, caught by his bountiful mastery of vulgarity. "How in the seven heavens to plan to care for Arus under  _his_ thumb? You're as good as dead and you've damned us all!"

She stood stoic, listening to his words as his fury crashed into her.

"I disagree," she said quietly after a moment.

"Is Arus still your domain, or shall I send my correspondences to King Lotor now?" The sneer in his voice sent a shudder down Allura's spine.

"It's mine," she affirmed.

"I should excommunicate you for this high treason," he muttered. A thread of silence beat between them before Allura responded.

"Fine."

"You  _want_  me to remove Arus from its partnership with the Galaxy Alliance?"

"Of course not. I personally feel that I can be impartial and serve both parties appropriately and justly. I think that-"

"Justly. Impartially. Allura he married you so that he can  _kill_  you. Arus is as good as dead. The Alliance is compromised. We can no longer help you without putting the entirety of our faction at risk to do so."

"Look, just give me time to explain to you what's going on," she said after a shaky breath. She felt herself oddly more prepared for the Marshal's temper as she had expected it from the beginning. She had worked with the older man since she had been a young girl first stepping into the political minefield between Arus and the Drule Empire. He had been kind to her, but always firm. His anger wasn't undue – her situation would alarm any of her allies.

"I'm waiting," he said after a few tense seconds. Allura simply shook her head.

"Not here. But I assure you it's not quite as reckless as it may appear," she reasoned with him. His anger ebbed slightly and he just scoffed.

"Until I have a full understanding of what is going on and how it affects Arus, I'm afraid I'll have to cut our ties to your planet. I can't have my entire consortium in danger." Allura flinched and nodded.

"If you think that's best."

"I'm sorry, but until further notice, you're on your own." He ended the feed with a gentle finality.

Allura, once again, found herself staring in stunned silence at the dark screen in front of her. With winsome dignity, she smiled as best she could and glanced over to Cossack. She found herself surprised to find Lotor standing next to him.

"Well, that went better than expected," she said with weak sincerity. Lotor looked pointedly at Cossack and the man bowed before his king and then again before his new queen before departing.

"Are you finished?" His eyes flashed over her carefully.

"Yes," she admitted. "I expected you to be at the festivities for a while."

"I had other things occupying my mind," he said mysteriously. She walked cautiously toward him. He turned and led the way out of the conference room and down the hallway, Allura trailing at his side.

"How do you know so much about me?" She changed the subject from the awkward, unspoken tension that hung between them. Allura wondered how much of the call he had seen.

"What do you mean?" He glanced down at her in surprise.

"You know my dress size, my shoe size… Apparently the size of bracelet that fits me, the crown upon my head… why do you know all that?" She stared straight ahead as they walked side by side, her hands folded across her chest.

"I make it a point to know as much as I possibly can about you," he answered after a moment's hesitation. Silence bled between them before Allura found her words as they rounded a corner.

"I don't think I know anything about you," she admitted.

"Well, I  _do_  intend to change that," he murmured, coming upon their chamber doors. He pushed the barrier open and both king and queen were met with a stunning sight.

Upon the master bed, shimmering black gossamer drapes framed the platform. Candles flickered from all corners of the room. Blood red rose petals were tossed across the floor and the top of the bed. Champagne nestled in a cooler nearby, glassed prepped for consumption.

"Oh Great Stars." It was the last thing Allura uttered before her world plunged into darkness.

Had Lotor been any slower in his reflexes, his new bride would have crashed to the ground in a dead faint. He clutched her gently to his chest before carrying her further into the room.

"Well done, Selna. Perhaps  _too_  well done," he murmured, laying the exhausted Arusian out on the bed. He extinguished the candles before turning his attention back to her. He sat beside her and gingerly worked her hair free of the pins and veil to allow her a more comfortable rest. He removed her crown and shawl, setting them all aside and placed the covers around her.

It wasn't much past midday, but the young queen was exhausted and overwhelmed. The last few days had been trying on her, and he noticed her skin appeared shades paler than it should have been.  _She hasn't been eating,_ he reminded himself. Lotor frowned.

He studied her sleeping features for a moment. Concern laced through him, quickly quelled by pride.

_Mine,_  he thought.  _All mine._

He pulled the door shut behind him and returned to the ongoing party outside.


	6. Provocation

Allura stirred. A sensual stretch rolled through her as she flexed her fingers, arched her back and curled her toes. A yawn later and she became distinctly aware of a firm surface beneath her. Allura let her fingers splay out naturally, exploring the sensation. Warm.

Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked, processing the situation around her carefully. Her eyes drifted toward her pillow and she found herself looking at the naked, remarkably chiseled, chest of Prince –  _King_  – Lotor himself.

Allura did the only thing she could think of.

She screamed.

Lotor bolted upright as Allura launched off him in a blind panic. She stood in the center of the room, looking around fervently, her memories slowly trickling back to her. After several calming breaths, she looked to the shocked former prince.

He sat upright in the bed, his lazon sword humming while his eyes scanned around the room, wide with concern. Allura caught her breath after a moment and placed the heel of her palm to her forehead.  She closed her eyes to regroup her restless thoughts and wrangle some semblance of coherency.

"I… I’m sorry," she said after a moment. "I find my dreams and my reality have been bleeding together lately. I'm not… always certain what is actually happening," she finished. She glanced over to him. "…why is your sword drawn?"

"I…" he trailed off, looking over her slender frame in the center of the bedchamber. "You screamed," he said at last, stunned by her beauty. The pink and gold gown was rumpled from rest and her hair was fluffed and unkempt… she had never looked more decadent as she blinked sleepily, her faculties returning. Allura frowned as she processed his comment.

"And you were going to slit my throat for that?" Her comment was only made in half-jest as she eyed him warily. He stared back at her in blatant surprise before standing up and sheathing the sword in the hilt resting near the bed.

"Of course not! I hadn't isolated what was threatening you, yet!" His anger from the implication that he would do her harm stunned Allura.

"Oh," she murmured, running her hands through her hair. She blinked again, noticing Lotor's attire for the first time. "Great stars, you're half-naked," she cried out, turning her head to avert her gaze.

Lotor frowned and looked down at the black silken pants adoring his lower frame.

"I typically don't wear anything when I sleep," he muttered. Allura yelped at the thought, her skin turning a brighter shade of red. A smirk twitched at his lips. His bride was literally blushing. He waited patiently, his arms patiently crossed over his chest to see what she would do. Allura stubbornly continued to stare at the wall in response while chewing on her bottom lip.

"Well," he began, dropping his arms. "I'm going to shower. You're always welcome to join me, my dear," he added silkily. To his delight, her skin turned yet another shade darker. Her shoulders trembled slightly.

"I'm fine, thank you," she whispered weakly. Her eyes stayed trained on the wall away from him.

"Allura, you are my _wife_ now, you realize that, do you not?" He frowned as her skin flashed from crimson to pale.

"I promised you my hand in marriage, Lotor. Nothing more." Her words were still a trembling whisper, but she forced them out with the last reserves of her courage.

The only sound in the room was the hiss of silk falling to the floor. Allura's eyes widened before clasping her hands over them as she realized he had let his pants fall away. Lotor said nothing, but she could practically feel the quiet anger rolling from the unpredictable – and currently naked - man.

With no explanation, the soft sound of bare footsteps on tile echoed as he made his way into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and Allura winced. Carefully, she peeked between her fingers and looked around the empty bedroom. As she had guessed, his black pants lay in a puddle on the floor where he had been standing. She swallowed nervously.

Allura waited until she heard the water turn on before she flew to the wardrobe. She whipped out the first gown she could find – the sky blue and cream one fell into her hands – and she quickly traded out the rumpled, slept-in pink one for the fresh garment.

She ran the brush through her hair quickly and freshened up with toiletries before reaching for her tiara. She paused and lifted the entire ensemble of a crown to inspect it more closely. The golden headdress was lovely, sculpted to fit her head alone. It was elegant but dainty, and had somehow become a single piece with the Arusian tiara lining the bottom. The jewel in the center glittered ominously as she tilted it back and forth. She shook her head once and set the piece back down near the shawl.

Her eyes shot to the bathroom door as the water shut off. With haste, she evacuated the bedroom. She had very little desire to be anywhere near the angry king. She had even less desire to be near him while he was naked. Shoes were left behind as she bolted into the corridor, picking a direction at random. Any other place would do.

_There's only so long you can put him off,_  she chided herself as she walked briskly.  _As long as possible._  Her stomach tightened in a knot. Did she dare push him to the point of anger when it came to wifely relations? She shook her head to clear both the thought and the flush staining her skin. _It is my right.  He will not bully that._   She frowned with renewed determination.

* * *

 

Allura had no idea what part of the enormous palace she had run to, but she found herself wandering along a skywalk. The long corridor seemed to connect two spires in the castle and the walls and ceiling were reinforced glass, giving her an open view of the clouds above. She paused in her walk and leaned against the railing with a sigh, eyeing the swirling sky and flashes of lightning overhead. _So dreary, yet so vibrant,_  she thought, eyeing the cacophonous colors.

The new queen allowed her thoughts to run freely as she rested her forehead against the glass. What would she say to Keith? Would he ever forgive her?  _Maybe I should wait a little longer to go to Arus, to let them calm down,_  she contemplated.

"I've made such a mess of everything," she mourned in an exhale. Allura opened her eyes and glanced down to the bracelet glinting in the false light overhead. "But… if he keeps his word, it'll be better for everyone," she acknowledged.

A subtle flash of movement caught her eye and she looked down to the end of the hallway just in time to see Blue Cat regard her with a curious look before bounding off. She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. No other souls seemed to be around and she found herself grateful for the reprieve. Allura returned her gaze outside as her hair fluttered freely down her back and pooled over her hunched shoulders.

The coliseum lights flashed on in the distance and she winced. Perhaps King Lotor was enjoying some entertainment. Allura felt her stomach curl at the hope that it would keep him from taking his fury out on her behind closed doors.

"That's terrible of you, to wish that suffering on someone else," she chided herself. "What are you becoming?" She shook her head again and pushed off the railing to begin wandering the hallway. She reached the fork at the end and glanced in both directions. She decided to take the path Blue Cat did not take.

Ten steps in, she realized her mistake when a thunderous fury boomed out behind her.

"You little  _bitch!_ " Allura wheeled around to find a very angry Zarkon bearing down on her quickly in the otherwise empty hallway. She had no idea what had crossed him, but had no intention to linger and find out. Before she could get more than a step away, the furious former monarch caught her arm. "I no longer have any slaves to serve me, and it's  _all. Your. Fault_!"

As he slammed her into the wall with one hand, Allura felt the steel bend behind her at his strength and the breath leave her lungs. Even with his age, the Drule far outpaced her in height, strength and speed. She barely had time to thrust her hand up toward her throat to catch his palm before it closed completely around her windpipe.

Allura winced in pain as he squeezed. Despite slipping her fingers in his hold to try and pry it off, he slowly cut her oxygen supply while shoving her further against the wall.

"I have no one to service me, to wait on me. You've gotten in his head and  _corrupted my entire empire,_ " he snarled in her face. Allura trembled from exerting the last of her strength to try and pry his hand off her throat. He yielded nothing, and he literally bent the young queen to his will. The steel behind her spine creaked.

She winced and continued to fend him off while he slowly closed in. Her window to breathe vanished as he effectively closed off the connection between her lungs and lips. Allura calculated that she had only a couple of minutes left to plot an escape plan.

"Beast," she whispered out at him with the last of the air remaining in her lungs. Her brow furrowed and her eyes nearly closed in a wince as she struggled to maintain consciousness. "He… … _offered_." Allura could feel her lungs burning. Pain laced her entire body as she tried to push him back and protect her throat.

"I could just snap your pretty neck right here," he hissed at her. "But I'd much rather watch you beg for your life as I choke it out of you.  _Beg._ "

"... _never_." The words no longer held even a whisper, her lips just made the motion of creating the word. Her vision swirled. Allura's lungs had stopped aching and for a moment, she felt weightless before everything went black.

She was out of time.

Somewhere in the haze of what remained, Allura could have sworn she heard the hum of a lazon sword.

* * *

 

Cold.

Allura felt cold.

_Why cold?_

As if in answer to her question, heat rushed through her body. It filled the void of weightlessness and warmed her skin. As it escalated, it flurried across her limbs and into her chest. The heat rose in intensity until it nearly burned. With no other option as the fire consumed her center, she gasped out.

Allura blinked once. Twice. She found herself looking into a familiar pair of serpentine eyes. He stared down at her as she breathed deeply, rapidly, as if she couldn't consume enough air. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath.

The golden eyes closed in relief and she felt a pair of lips press to her forehead reverently. Lotor stepped back to give her space. Allura looked around her surroundings as her hyperventilating slowed. She sat on the floor of the hallway, across from her Zarkon was restrained by several guardsmen. Lotor had risen from his kneeling position and was watching her with a haunted expression.

The queen felt confused. As she leaned forward to press off the ground, Lotor knelt before her again.

"Stay, a medic is on the way," he said gently.

"A medic? That's ridiculous, I don't need-" She paused at the dark look that crossed his face. She swallowed nervously, surprised at the burning sensation the action gave her. "…what happened?"

She watched him carefully as his face shifted from fury to what almost resembled… _fear_?

"Your heart stopped beating momentarily," he said after a second's pause. He reached up and brushed the hair back from her face. His eyes trailed down her face to her throat and his alarm hardened into cold anger once more. "It's going to bruise," he explained at her confused look.

She reached up and weakly touched her throat, dazedly. After a moment, her lips twitched playfully.

"I told you someone would want me dead," she teased him. Her voice strained uncomfortably and she sounded as if she might lose it altogether if she spoke too much. It was unusually raspy and pained. Lotor scowled.

"Do not make jokes about that," he said dismissively before rising back to his feet. He stared at his father lethally. After a moment, he looked back down at Allura.

"So, what punishment would you like for him?"

She just stared up at him in open surprise, her face blank.

"What?" Her voice hitched at the end and he winced, hearing the stress her vocal chords had endured at his father's crushing grasp. He found himself eerily grateful that the old man favored a more sinister approach to destruction; she would have long been gone before he had arrived had he just broken her spine.

"How would you like this attempt on your life to be punished," he repeated.

"I… wouldn't?" She glanced up at him in confusion before pointing toward Zarkon as she explained. "He has every right to be upset. Every balance that has existed up until now has completely been thrown off. That's the same reason the Castle of Lions is cross with me as well." She folded her hands in her lap and glanced down to them. "I just wish talking more and fighting less was an option."

Zarkon just snorted, his fury still rampant but restrained by the guardsmen.

"And I know that's not something you lot… do much, and that's fair. I  _know_  that I'm a threat. I told you that when we first spoke Lotor. Even if I'm not physically stronger or faster, I'm dangerous because I'm… different. _This_ … is different," she gestured between them.

Lotor stared down at his wife with an unfathomable look on his face before he spoke his next words carefully.

"I don't think you quite understand your position, Allura," he said slowly.

"Oh, I do. Trophy or prize or whatnot," she waved her hand dismissively, her fatigue beginning to take its toll.  He studied her contemplatively for a moment.

"Quite the contrary. That crown and that sash – they are not trinkets with which to amuse yourself with. They are the very epitome of the royal family. You  _are_  the queen of the Drule Empire, Allura. Not just as a title because you are my wife. There is only one person in all of our reach and reign that does not answer to you, and that is myself."

The silence that settled in the hallway was thick with tension.

"I don't understand," Allura whispered after a moment, her clouded gaze focusing on him when she failed to divine meaning from the phrase he uttered.

"Zarkon, the former king, the man who took your father from you," he said leisurely, enjoying the sudden paleness of his father's face as he realized where his son was going. "Is your mere  _servant_ , my dear. You now outrank him. Substantially. Not only did he commit the crime of assaulting the woman I love, but also his commanding officer," he finished with a fanged grin at Allura's open shock.

"… _why_?"

Lotor tossed his head back and laughed darkly.

"I orchestrated it this way as I require the absolute best in everything. With your power now in the Drule Empire, plus your connections to Arus and Voltron – even ignoring the questionable state of the Galaxy Alliance, you are  _easily_  the single most powerful person in the entire galaxy, Allura. And you are mine. The most beautiful, most powerful and most important person that ever existed is now my wife."

"I'm not important," she murmured. Her shock was shattered with his last statement as she turned away. "I'm no one to anyone," she explained. "I don't want power. I don't want control. I just want my duty of care to be fulfilled. I just want the people of my planet to live in peace and quiet. I don't want them to ever know fear or suffering. I don't want an empire. I don't want a _galaxy_ ," she said sadly, shaking her head, bringing her hands to her temples in frustration.  “…I just want to be left alone.”

"Like I said, if I just wanted a pretty thing at my side, Allura, I would have taken a slave as a bride years ago." She glanced up at his serpentine irises glinted dangerously.

She just sighed and started to push up from the floor again.

"Here, M’lady," an elderly Drule was suddenly at the queen's side, helping her rise. Lotor startled.

"You’re here. Allura, this is the medic," he explained.

Allura physically recoiled on pure instinct when the gentle doctor touched her throat lightly to inspect any damage.

She wasn't keen on having another Drule's hand around her windpipe anytime soon.

"Please let me look, Your Majesty," he insisted, reaching for her again. Allura winced and nodded, letting the man gently touch at the bruising that had already formed on the surface of her skin. His touch was light as he pressed into where Zarkon's grip had crushed her. Without explanation, he procured a stethoscope and pressed it to her chest.

"Breathe deeply for me, please," he instructed and Allura complied. After three breaths, he returned the instrument to his bag and went back to gently touching the flesh of her throat.

"She'll be fine," he said after a moment. "There will be some outward bruising for certain, and there is some internal damage, but nothing that won't heal with time. Her trachea didn't collapse,  _fortunately,_ " he said, eyeing the former king with a poisonous look. "Her voice may just be weak for another day or so; there will be some swelling," he finished, packing up his medical kit.

"Thank you," she said after the doctor bowed before her. He turned and left the small entourage, his work completed.

"Now, my dear. What of my father? It's your decision how justice be mete."

Allura just shook her head again.

"No, I don't want any part of that," she reiterated. "I think I'd like some time to actually process what's happening right now," she murmured.

"Get him out of here," he dismissed the guards with Zarkon and they hauled the furious former monarch down the hallway. "I'll deal with him later."

Allura shivered at his words.

Once they were alone in the hallway, Lotor fixed Allura with his gaze. She swallowed nervously, quickly reminded that the action was unpleasant for her. He watched her wordlessly, his eyes glancing from her face to her throat and back again.

Lotor returned his eyes down the hall his guards had gone to see if they were still in the hallway. Satisfied they were truly alone, he turned back to her and snatched her into an embrace.

Allura yelped softly in surprise, crushed into his chest as his arms circled her like protective iron bands. Her palms rested against his chest as she moved to push away from him, but she hesitated. He had, after all, just saved her life.

Allura's heart hammered in her chest as she allowed him to hold her.

"How did you know I was here?" She murmured after a moment. The longer she stayed under his touch, the more comforting the sensation felt. Allura felt  _safe._  It was a strange feeling to come to someone who tried desperately to protect a war-torn planet, but in the moment she stood in his arms, she felt like nothing could ever hurt her again.  _How peculiar that it comes from him,_  she thought to herself.

The queen surprised both herself and Lotor by letting her arms wrap around his back, pulling herself closer into his hold.

"Haggar warned me you might be in danger. She said you were on the breezeway and that Zarkon was in a particularly sour mood," he murmured into her hair. He inhaled her scent as she startled.

"Blue Cat!" She remembered seeing the feline before Zarkon had appeared. He just murmured an assent, delighting in the feel of her fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic.

"Thank you," she said after another moment passed between them. "You saved my life."

"I saved his, too," he muttered darkly. "There would be no death less honorable nor more painful for him had he succeeded." Allura shivered again at the response. "Why didn't you want any punishment for him?" He took a step back so he could tilt her chin to look up at him. She blinked, a blush staining her cheeks as her fingers continued to curl into the fabric on his back.

"I don't want things to be hostile. Being cruel back would only fuel it. I understand why he's upset," she added.

"He tried to  _kill you_ ," he emphasized with incredulity. "I'm taking steps to make sure he never tries to again, but with your approach, he very well could!"

She sighed softly, meeting his gaze comfortably.

"He's tried to kill me before, too. He succeeded with my father."

"And now you could finally take revenge," he added with lethality. Allura only shook her head in response.

"I never want that. And my father would be ashamed if I ever did anything like that in his name. He would be prouder if I could change things, instead," she explained. Lotor reached up and brushed some of the hair near her face.

"You are… an enigma, Allura," he murmured softly.

She started to shake her head dismissively as he caught her chin and stared down into her eyes. His gloved hand brushed her bottom lip lightly and her azure gaze widened as Allura realized his intention.

"Lotor," she murmured softly as he leaned in toward her. She winced, but for the first time she did not pull away from him. Her eyelids draped shut as she braced, yet her hands stayed at his back. He paused.

"Why do you act like I'm going to hurt you every time I touch you," he murmured, his lips just a breath from her own.

"Because you always do," she whispered back, breathless. Her eyes opened to look up at him, tears shimmering in the corners. He stilled, watching her intently. "You always take, it's always for you," she explained in his silence. Her throat released a sad noise as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing hers ever so slightly, but he went no further.

The frustrated noise he exhaled sounded akin to a growl as he released her chin and stepped back away from her.

"Come," he beckoned her. Allura stared at him, stunned. When she didn't respond, he took her wrist in his hand and led her down the hallway. "We're going to the kitchen and we are going to find something for you to eat, dammit."

Allura flushed as she realized how long it had been since she had consumed anything substantial. She trailed behind him as he led her, almost forcibly, down the hallway, but a faint smile touched at her lips as she watched his back.

_Is he… trying to show concern?_  She stopped the giggle that came to her lips and just shook her head once, content to follow behind him. Allura entertained the surprising idea that on some level, Lotor might actually  _care_.

He didn't bother to look behind him as he hauled her down the hallway, leading the way to the massive kitchen. He was going to get some food inside Allura even if he had to feed her by hand himself. He was determined not to take no for an answer. Her health was rapidly declining, and he had no desire to have her continue fainting on him. He had plans in mind for later.


	7. Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind how this piece is rated...

Lotor sat across from Allura. The small setting in the kitchen preparation area gave them a sense of intimacy. There was no grand ballroom table stretching across a room or an entire balcony between them; only the span of four feet separated their legs.

He was trying a different approach in an effort to get his new queen to eat. Instead of an elaborate feast of lamb shanks and grilled steaks, he had a lighter spread prepared for her. Small sandwich squares piled on a plate next to a traditional Drule sauce for dipping fruit into. Everything in front of her was unintimidating and bite-sized in an effort to coax her appetite.

To the king's immense satisfaction, it worked. Allura had consumed, warily at first, three of the miniature sandwich triangles. She'd tried the sauce on a berry before forgoing the dip in favor of just the fruit.

He sipped from his glass of wine as he watched her with unyielding attention. Dainty fingers lifted a morsel of dessert and after a moment of studying the piece, she placed it past her lips.

"There's no better way to make a girl feel self-conscious than to watch her eat, you know," she murmured as she plucked up another sandwich triangle. Her eyes never flickered to his, but she was _excruciatingly_ aware of the intensity of his gaze on her.

"Your health concerns me," he said after a moment.

"But you don't have to  _stare_ ," she insisted, setting the wedge down and glaring at him across the table. He watched her for a moment and shook his head once.

"Very well," he said as he rose abruptly from the table and walked toward where a wall of ovens sat. He folded his arms behind him and afforded her a degree of privacy. Allura eyed him for a moment before glancing back to the tray of tiny sandwiches. With one last look toward Lotor, she quickly shoveled the food into her mouth.

With her elevated anxiety levels lessening, Allura's hunger had returned in force, as if her body recognized the lack of nutrients over several days. She flushed brightly as he turned around and noticed the tray was empty in front of her. She dabbed her lips daintily in response. He grinned, the tips of his fangs appearing.

"Good," he praised, clearing the tray. "Now the fruit," he pointed. She scowled.

"You can't tell me what to do."

"I'm the king, you're my queen. Of course I can."

"I'm your  _wife_."

"Exactly," he said before he paused and blinked as the intensity of her statement dawned on him.

"When has any man ever successfully told his wife what to do," she murmured playfully.

He stared, struck by her banter. Allura hadn't been much for humor in their near-recent history, and the ease with which she addressed her sudden, new relationship to him caught him wholly by surprise. Without warning, his lethal grin widened across his face. Lotor was pleased by her fire, her candor, and the comfort with which she retaliated against him.  A low rumble of approval vibrated from his chest as he folded his arms in front of him.

She plopped a berry in her mouth and followed it up with a sip of water as he wandered back to the small table and eased himself into the chair. He averted his gaze, affording her some privacy to encourage her nourishment.

"My schedule is clear for the evening, but tomorrow I'll be in meetings in the morning. A few planets have questions with the change in leadership and I need to address their concerns directly and quickly," he explained, flipping through sheets of paper.

Allura glanced up at him, openly surprised. She swallowed the fruit in her mouth and sat back in her chair.

"Why are you sharing this with me," she inquired. He glanced up toward her over the paper schedule.

“I genuinely meant what I said. It wasn't just a show against my father, Allura. You're the queen of the Empire. …would you prefer not to be in the know? I can handle ll the affairs for you if you prefer it."

Allura stared.

"I… no," she trailed off thoughtfully. "I suppose I didn't realize my opinion on anything mattered to you," she admitted after a moment, dropping her gaze back to the table. She speared a bite-sized piece of roasted meat and popped it into her mouth, contemplating the information he had given her.

He studied her closely as she mulled over the strange information. When she paused in her chewing and glanced back to him pointedly, he averted his gaze once more.

"So… what do you do in meetings like that?" She leaned forward on the table toward him, finding herself startlingly interested in some aspects of his life.

"What is it that you think I do, Allura?" He turned the question back on her, careful to keep his eyes on the paperwork in his lap.

Allura nibbled on a biscuit thoughtfully for a moment.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "I know what I do on Arus, within th Galaxy Alliance and other trade partners, but I…" She paused and blinked, setting the remaining portion of biscuit down on her plate.

Lotor locked his eyes on hers.

"I… don't know. I suppose I just thought that King Zarkon just… threatened and bullied everyone until he got his way out of fear. Anyone who didn't give him what he wanted was… destroyed. I… I can't say he's ever outwardly tried any thoughtful diplomatic relations with Arus," she explained, slowly putting together the disjointed thoughts in her mind. "How does a planet become part of the Drule Empire besides being conquered or pledging undying support?"

"They don't," he explained after a moment. "You're exactly correct in your observation. If it's not inhabited by Drules, it had been… procured by them. Local residents conform or… well, they conform one way or the other," he finished. Lotor watched her expression closely as she processed the more sordid detail of his race.

"How… is that sustainable, though? You have a growing civilization," she began, pausing to consider her words. Lotor found himself surprised at how comfortably she just took the conquering to be a fact and moved forward. "And when you take from planets on such a level that they can't reproduce, or the planet is ripped apart in combat – how do you sustain your people that way? Your populations keep rising, but you leave dead planets in your wake."

"We can't."

Allura's eyes widened at his answer. Lotor shifted his weight in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back. Dropping the stack of papers in front of him on the table, he nodded his head toward it.

"This… has never been done before."

"I… so what is it… that you're doing," she asked, her lips parted in confusion.

"My father is exceedingly proud. And it has driven the Empire into a dangerous economic decline. Action needs to be taken," he finished, sitting back and smiling at her.

Allura felt a chill flutter down her spine as something about what he said resonated with her. Hope should have been her predominant emotion – she felt as though she should have been excited that Lotor was not considering following the same path of reckless and wanton destruction that his father took. But hidden in his words was something dark that she knew she was missing. She frowned at him. The lethally sweet smile he bestowed upon her solidified her fears that there was an undertone she was missing, and he was waiting patiently for her to piece it together.

She shook her head once and took a bite out of an apple nearby. Lotor's terrifying look faded into one of appropriate satisfaction. She frowned at him, trying to divine the hidden message he was holding back from her.

"I'd like to go back to Arus soon," she articulated after a moment of consideration. "I need… I need to explain to them what's going on. Otherwise they're going to come here eventually and try and burn everything," she said. "They're really cross with me right now, but I need to go anyway," she added after a moment.

"Why are they so angry?"

"Because they don't understand. They think I didn't trust them, but that's not the case," she explained. "They don't… realize our arrangement and why I couldn't – didn’t – decline your… offer. It had nothing to do with not trusting them to come for me, or not believing in their capabilities. …but I couldn't explain that over an unsecure line," she added, fumbling with her words as she articulated the surreal reality around her.

"Why didn’t you tell them?" He tilted his head to the side as she nudged her plate to the side, indicating she was finished. His quick eyes swept over the remaining dishes, measuring what was eaten. Satisfied that she had had a proper meal, he let the subject drop.

"I…" She trailed off, confused. "I mean… I will, I just…"

"You intentionally kept the reason for your acquiescence out of the public spotlight. Why," he pushed her carefully. Allura just returned his curiosity with a stunned look.

"Why wouldn’t I? One, that's my private business, not the entire galaxy's," she tapped off her index finger. "Two, I can't even  _begin_  to imagine the political complications on your end if that came out. My understanding is that it's better if your people believe you just bullied me into it." She looked thoughtful for a moment before tapping on her ring finger. "And three, can you imagine how furious your father would have been if he knew everything?" She shook her head once, a shiver running down her spine.

Lotor stayed quiet while he watched her, his eyes drawn to the darkening bruise. His lips tensed slightly as he checked his rising fury.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes widened as she saw his own harden dangerously. "What are you looking- oh," she blinked, realizing what she must look like. Allura reached up and self-consciously fluffed her hair over her shoulders, concealing most of the evidence of her near-fatal incident. "It's fine," she said after a moment.  “It will be fine,” she corrected quickly.

He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply through his nose in response.

"We can agree to disagree on that sentiment, Allura," he said darkly.

"Anyway," she said shyly, toying with one of the strands of hair falling over her shoulder. "I never got a chance to ask you. Why…. How did… I mean," she paused, pressing her lips together in frustration that she couldn't gather her words properly. He chuckled darkly at her, eliciting a blush from her cheeks. "Why the crown and the… thing," she gestured across her shoulders.

"Ah, my dear, they are the queen's Crown and Drape. All queens have worn them in some capacity. Each has been slightly different, tailored to meet the personality of each, but they are a symbol of your authority in the Empire."

Allura sat back, stunned.

"And that's where I'm still confused. Why… why?" She started off initiating a question and ended with just the interrogative, lost for words.

"As I said. You are my queen, not my servant. The Empire, contrarily, serves  _you_. Do you remember when we crossed paths a few years ago, I promised you the universe? I meant it. We govern the stars themselves," he finished reverently.

"But.” Her lips pressed together in frustration as he continued to miss her point. “Why do you need me to do that," she insisted. "It sounds like you had that already. Why share it?"

He stared at her openly for a moment before replying in the most raw and honest way he could, as if the answer were obvious.

"Because you are the woman that I love."

Allura stared across the table at the new king flatly. She'd heard the word 'love' from Lotor many times before, usually accompanied by a display of power, bloodsport or holding her at swordpoint. She snorted in response.

"I don't believe you actually understand what that means," she said after a moment passed between them.

"Of course I love you! I'd slay planets, spill blood and burn skies to prove it!"

Allura's lips twitched in response, her brow furrowed in concern.

"That's not what love is to me, Lotor." She shook her head sadly. "Love is not a gratuitous demonstration of force; it is not a coveting of what is 'the best,' as you have so referred to me now. It's about …gentleness and softness. It's about strength and compassion. It's about putting the needs, wants and desires of the person you feel affection for first because they're important to you. It's not about taking," she finished flatly, sipping more of her water. "It's about giving."

Lotor stared at her darkly, his eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. Allura worried for a moment she had pushed him too far when he responded.

"My turn to ask a question," he said, masking any of the remaining thoughts he had on the subject of love. When she looked perplexed, he continued. "How did you get here?"

"Well, you cornered me in your bedroom and told-"

"…Before that. I don't mean  _here_ ," he gave her a dry look; well aware she was teasing him with her literal interpretation. His suspicions were confirmed when her lips twitched slightly in response. "I meant to Planet Doom. My Sky Captains have scoured the area, there's no sign of any ship, much less the Blue Lion."

Allura leaned back in her seat and glared at him.

"Why would I tell you that?"

"So that means that Blue Lion _is_ somewhere on my planet," he murmured off-handedly. Allura's eyes widened.

"I didn't say that! Why would you assume that?"

"I didn't… but your sudden panic confirms my suspicions. Now, where did you hide that massive beast?  Your ship isn’t exactly… _discreet._ "

She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.  As his eyes narrowed, she tilted her chin up stubbornly at him in resolution.

"Dammit, Allura, why won't you tell me?"

"Why? Why do you need to know that? How do I know you won't just tear it apart or try and build one of your own?" She scowled back at him. "You only promised that Voltron would stay under my control, and you wouldn't harm the pilots. You never said you wouldn't tear apart my lion - either just because you could, or even to see how it worked. I'm not giving away my secrets," she finished with a stoic glare.

He returned her look in kind. A heavy silence settled across the table. Allura was the first to break it with a sigh, dropping her hands back to her lap and her gaze to the table. She was no match for the fury of the Drule king – it was simply not a competition the pacifist princess was capable of winning.

"Okay, that… may have been… unnecessarily hostile on my part," she admitted after a moment, her tone softening. "But why do you want to know? Why does it matter to you where it is?"

His own ire seemed to mellow as she lowered her shields again.

"I'm fascinated that you managed to park that beast somewhere and elude all of my guardsmen. Allura, you were so stealthy you broke into one of the most fortified bases in the galaxy. And I still have yet to see how you even got onto the guarded planet in the first place. …That's damned impressive," he finished with open awe. She blinked at him in surprise, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"It wasn't that stealthy, obviously. You found me," she said quietly.

"Allura, if I hadn't happened to be in the same hallway as you, you probably would have come and gone undetected," he admitted openly.

"Not possible, you came right to me, like… like someone had told you exactly where I was," she flustered with a slight frown.

"Allura. I  _always_  see you." She gasped and glanced up to him, struck frozen by the intensity of his gaze. As soon as he caught her eye, Allura found she couldn't look away. It resembled the snare of a predator; hypnotizing and lethal. Her blood felt like ice beneath her burning skin and her heart trembled violently in her chest under his scorching gaze. "Always." She swallowed fearfully.

After several seconds of heart-palpitating silence, Lotor released her from his lure. With a slow blink, he opened his lids and looked off to the side, leaving the Arusian to catch the breath she had been holding.

"We shall go to Arus tomorrow afternoon once my morning meetings are finished," he said after a moment, setting his empty wine glass down.

"Wait. 'We'?" She fixed him with a surprised gaze.

"I don't intent to leave you alone for a moment, my dear," he replied lazily. She shivered.

"…It would probably be best if I went in first so they don't shoot you on sight," she murmured after a second of thinking.

“Or I’ll just join you in your ship," he countered. "In the meantime," he stood from the table and looked over her. "We should head to bed."

Allura rose to her feet, eyeing him cautiously.

"…you mean go to sleep," she supplied hopefully. He watched her with a wicked glint in his eye.

"Eventually."

* * *

 

Allura found herself in a strange predicament. She stood in the shower of their bedchamber, blissfully left to her own devices to bathe, but Lotor was waiting with all certainty outside for her to finish. Her shower dragged on as she tried to steel her nerves.

The water splashed off the black marble around her, echoing oddly in the quiet room. The bathroom had no windows from which she could flee. The hot water hit her shoulders as she closed her eyes.  _Arrogant beast_ , she thought darkly. Albeit relatively under-informed on the subject of physical courtship, Allura had a very good idea of what 'wifely duties' entailed.

She shut off the water with resignation.  _Maybe he'll just take no for an answer,_  she thought hopefully as she toweled off. Time seemed to slow as she took extra care. Her hair itself was practically dry by the time she set the towel aside.

With little left to delay with, she walked across the bathroom to where the garments she had grabbed were resting. She unfurled the floor-length cotton gown. White.  _How fitting._  She rolled her eyes before pulling it on over her head.

The breezy garment, like most of her other Drulishly-acquired pieces, hugged her body like a second skin before flowing to the floor from her hips. It, too, rested off her shoulders with cap sleeves over her forearms.

Allura stood in front of the door and exhaled slowly before opening it suddenly. Lotor flashed her a grin from where he was laying in the bed. With a cry, Allura slammed the door shut again and bolted it.

"Allura, dammit…" she heard him grumble from the other side of the door. There was a rustling she couldn't place as she struggled to catch her breath. Her cheeks flushed hot at the memory. She had only looked for a second, but the image was emblazoned in her mind.

Lotor had been propped up on one side, his elbow under him as he watched the door. The steel blue sheets had pooled over his hip and between his thighs, but the rest of him had been as bare as a newborn babe. The muscles from his shoulders to his ankles were chiseled and raw, his chest defined and smooth, almost glinting in the flickering firelight.

A gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door as Allura cradled her mortified face in her hands.  _There's just no way I can go through with this._

"Allura, I'm… come out, please." She said nothing, her back pressed against the door, afraid the volatile man might try and break it down.

He did not.

"…I'm wearing pants now," he added uncomfortably after a moment. She stared across the bathroom, breathing heavily as he murmured to her through the solid barrier. She thrust her fingers into her hair in a panic before exhaling. She turned back to face the door.

It took several tries for Allura to unbolt the bathroom door; her hands trembled too much. Warily, she swung it open. Lotor glanced up from where his face had been buried in his palms. A quick look revealed his honesty – he was sitting on the edge of the bed, bare feet on the ground, satin black pants hugging his hips again. He looked to her as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Her skin was a strange mixture of ash and cherry, her eyes carefully concealing the torrent of emotions behind them. He felt as though he were staring into the eyes of a wild animal. Curious, but ready to bolt at a second's notice.

With practiced slowness, he straightened upright, and gestured carefully to the large bed. She swallowed nervously. Her lips were pressed together tautly as she took her first few steps into the room. His eyes flashed over her body before returning to her face. He was careful not to linger lest it frighten her. From what he had seen, however, she was magnificent. The gown kept little from his imagination and from the way it curved around her, it was apparent she wore nothing beneath it.

The haughty coldness with which she strode into the room and around the bed to her side startled him slightly. She wore the mask of a warrior heading into battle, not of a lover coming to bed. He stayed still, only turning his head to watch as she circled. It wasn't until she stood on the opposite side that his torso turned to continue tracking her movement. Allura watched him with frosty wordlessness.

Without warning she catapulted herself onto the mattress, grabbed for the sheets and yanked them up around her shoulders. Her body curled into a tight ball on her left side, her back to her new husband.

Lotor watched her for a moment, noting the tremble in her shoulders, a quick recalibration running through his mind. Silently he stood up and moved near the door where he extinguished the lights. Only the firelight remained as he returned to the right side of the bed.

Allura pressed her eyes closed tightly.

_Please, just go to sleep,_  she prayed silently. She felt the mattress shift behind her as it came to bear his weight as well. Her fingers curled tightly around the sheet at her shoulders and her knees tucked higher into her chest.

The wind left her lungs in a panicked exhale when the weight of one of his arms draped over her ribs. She squeezed her eyelids closed tighter and braced. If Allura believed there were any chance she could win the fight against him she would have retaliated, but she knew that she was weaker, physically, by far.

She opened one eye when he didn't move. His chest pressed into her back and his bicep rested heavily against her ribcage just under her breasts. His forearm lay powerfully – but dormant, on the mattress in front of her. His fingers sprawled across the bedsheet near her collarbone, but the only touch he initiated was against her back and her ribs. Still, she waited for his next move.

None came.

Allura gradually let her breathing return to its normal cadence as she reveled in the sensation of being pinned beneath his arm. The limb before her was his right hand – his dominant sword arm.

A moment ticked by and Allura grew braver, her raw curiosity flaring as her fear subsided.  The Arusian’s cheeks were flaming red and she was pleased he couldn't see them. She reached up and with trembling hands, lightly brushed over the top of his hand. His fingers flexed out across the mattress in response and Allura froze. Gently, she repeated the subtle gesture. Once more, his hand repeated the flex, but did not otherwise move.

With fortifying courage, she shifted slightly so that she could trace the pads of her fingertips along his forearm. Allura stilled as a shudder vibrated behind her back. After it diminished and when no other movement came about, she resumed her curious trace of his arm. The pads of her fingertips gracefully danced across his veins and muscles, following the fascinating contours of a master swordsman and warlord.

Before she realized it, she had rolled back against him to touch his bicep on her ribs. Once more, she froze as he groaned behind her, a louder articulation that before. Allura retracted her hands back to her chest in surprise.

"Don't stop," he whispered into her ear. His voice sounded off – hoarse and tense. It commanded an air of authority, but ultimately it was a request. She flushed as pink as her flight suit when she found herself obeying the command and returned her trembling hands to his arm, lightly dusting across unexplored terrain. It was foreign not only in that it was Lotor, but that it was utterly _male_.

Eventually she shifted completely onto her back and looked up into his eyes. He was propped up on his other arm, leaving his dominant arm lazily across her torso. The desire behind his eyes was unmistakable as she made eye contact with him. Her heart trembled with new alarm, but she found her palms still deftly skirting across his skin with unsanctioned curiosity.

"You know," he murmured, his voice only holding a hint of a verbal amidst a breathy whisper as he caught the concern in her expression. "It doesn't hurt. It doesn't have to, anyway," he said. Cautiously, he moved the arm across her off her ribs and lazily drew it up her side. He paused as she stiffened when he touched the side of her breast. When she didn't panic, he carefully continued up to her shoulder and to her collarbone. His fingertips grazed the side of her neck, and despite the deferential care, Allura couldn’t stop the instinctive flinch.

He stilled, a shadow clouding his mind once more at the haunting memory.

"Despite what you may think – what I may have led you to believe in the past," he started, gently, leisurely tracing his fingers across the side of her throat from ear to shoulder in a gentle, calming manner, fascinated to be allowed to touch her so openly.

"I won't hurt you. Not this time. Not ever again."

She closed her eyes and just braced against the lazy brush against her wounded skin.

"Does it hurt now?"

She cracked on eye open at him and thought about it carefully.  Despite the staccato hammering of her heart, the sensation was… _soothing_.

"…no," she whispered. Her voice vibrated like an earthquake.

"I want-" He paused, considering his words carefully. "…I'd _like_ … to try something, Allura. It won't be fast nor unexpected. And the moment you ask me to stop, I will.  If you’ll give it a chance," he encouraged.

Allura's eyes widened to the size of frightened saucers when his palm opened and spread over the width of her throat.

She closed her eyes and trembled, none too pleased to have another Drule hand around her windpipe so soon.

Though, she had to admit as she calmed when he didn’t initiate any other movement, it didn't feel… unpleasant.  _On the contrary…_  She blinked, her cheeks blushing at the very subtle pressure his grasp on her presented while his thumb stroked in a lazy circle on the side.

"I…"

"There we go," he murmured gently to her, encouraging her to stay calm. His weight shifted slightly as he rose up off his side. He was very careful with his control on her flesh, knowing one wrong misstep of strength would end every chance he had.

No longer resting on his left hand but instead relying on the muscles in his thighs as he knelt next to her, he drew his left arm up her side and stroked her hair back from her face before leaning in.

The kiss utterly shocked her.

She had expected domination, possessiveness and greediness. Contrary to their wedding, his lips were soft and yielding, as if he were giving to her instead of taking. He offered the initiation, but left the rest up to her. He allowed her the room to explore. Even as Allura gasped at the tightening of his left hand on her hip, he did not push further, and instead allowed her the space to adjust.

To her embarrassment, she found herself cautiously returning the gesture and her hand even coming up to brush his hair by his face, a gentle gesture she had never afforded him before.

As Allura leaned back to breathe deeply, Lotor, once more, followed her lead and sat back himself. She stared up at him, her fingers absentmindedly brushing his hair out of his eyes while his hands lazily stroked both her throat and her hip.

"Lotor…"

She trailed off, a crimson hue flooding her cheeks as she contemplated her next words. Lotor had made a bargain with her and he had, to her knowledge, kept every promise he had ever made. He had protected her from his father. She even thought she had seen the faintest hint of compassion earlier.

She exhaled, warring with the morbid curiosity and fluttering heat beneath her skin.  Did she dare?

Allura chewed on her bottom lip intently, her eyes studying his carefully.  No shard of malintent nor fragment of deception glinted back.  With another deep breath, she gave in to her curiosity despite the fear.

"…I trust you," she said, to both their surprise.

"It does not go unappreciated, I assure you," he murmured in a gravelly voice as he leaned in to reclaim her lips. Allura tensed slightly before relaxing into his embrace.

She gasped against his lips in surprise as his hand slid further up her left side, pausing to boldly cup her breast, drawing out a noise of mortification from her.

“What are you…”

“Remember, you can always say stop,” he said as his hand on her throat flexed ever so slightly.  It was a very subtle gesture, but it was just enough to elicit a sweet exhale from the woman before him.  He felt pleasure surge through his body as her back arched slightly, delighted to have honed in on one of her sensitive areas.

“How,” she breathed softly, her question cut off with another noise as his left thumb stroked expertly over her budded nipple while still cradling her breast deftly.

“Allura,” he practically purred her name against her.  “You’ve grown up learning to be stoic and selfless.  Be _selfish._ ”

“But I-“  Her protests were lost when he kissed her once more.  His right hand released her throat and curled around her ankle.  In a painfully slow courtship, he carefully grasped the joint just snugly enough to elicit a squirm from her before he glided his hand up her smooth calf, a chuckle vibrating against her lips.

The white gown hitched with his trace, and he paused at her knee as she shuddered, a reminder of the degree of restraint required.  Lotor broke from her lips to kiss her chin once before boldly planting one on the center of her throat.

She hissed out as his fangs faintly traced her sensitive skin.  Despite the utterance of fear, he noted she never asked him to yield.  He placed a reverent kiss to her windpipe, grateful it was still intact. 

Lotor braced for shyness and fear, perhaps he even anticipated her to ask him to stop as he his teeth slid across the flesh before he could stop himself.

He did not, however, expect the delicious moan it brought forth.  He stilled suddenly, worried for a moment he had confused the sound for something else.  Her hitched breathing and flushed skin told him otherwise.

Her hands knotted through his hair as she pulled him closer, rekindling his pursuit.

“Lotor!”

Her cry of surprise elicited a chuckle against her throat as he swiftly tugged the sleeveless gown down, baring her breasts to the air.

He licked the length of her neck lazily as his hand on her knee slid higher.  She squirmed slightly under him and one hand moved from his hair to his chest.  She boldly traced out the hardened muscles with her fingertips. 

Allura paused at an imperfection, her hand drawing across a faint scar over his left pectoral. 

“War,” he murmured against her ear after lifting his lips from her throat, his face nuzzling into her hair. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back.

“For?”  He nipped at her earlobe playfully, grinning lethally as she writhed.

“It must have hurt,” she murmured, catching her breath.

“I’ve had worse.”

His hand had finally come to rest on her hip, his thumb stroking the top of her mound reverently, enjoying the sensation of the soft curls beneath his touch.  Her skin flushed bright at her exposure, but she had yet to ask him to stop, he remarked.

“Why do you enjoy fighting?”

He laughed darkly and his fingertips pinched lightly around the taut bud on her breast, drawing a cry from her with an arch from her back.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Allura only gasped in response.

“Stars above…”  Her head tilted back on the pillow and the curves of her body were thrown into a striking contrast as the firelight danced over her skin.  Lotor took his chance.

Allura sat upright suddenly, her eyes wide as she came nose-to-nose with her husband.  He could only grin at her, his finger suddenly embracing her from within.  He waited.  Neither moved.  Lotor waited for her to slap him while Allura waited to see what came next.  Time stood still for them both.

His lips curled up wickedly.

After gauging her reaction, Lotor slowly withdrew his intrusion.  The flush that covered her face was all the reassurance he needed to retake his work.  He guided her back to the bed as she exhaled.

“Sinful,” she whispered as the pillow cradled her head once more.

“Isn’t it,” he murmured in response, leaning over to catch her lips with his as he gently began to encourage her body’s natural response.   His pace was slow and calibrated, carefully measuring the appropriate time to slip a second finger past her.

Lotor’s free palm reached up to catch her cheek in his hand while his lips devoured hers.  Allura’s hands tightened on his shoulders and he growled in approval when her nails dug into his skin.

Foreign sensation licked across her skin, settling as a molten pool of light beneath his hand between her thighs, and propriety and practicality seemed like faraway concepts as she panted against him.

With little comprehension of why, Allura moved in rhythm against him, a deep need curling through her.  She whimpered in response, closing her eyes as the heat built.  It felt too hot, too overwhelming.  She tossed her head to the side, breaking their kiss as she gasped deeply.

“I can’t…” she whispered, struggling to catch her breath against the rising tension.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured encouragingly.  “Be selfish, Allura.  Just let go.”  When she only clenched her jaw in response, he leaned over and licked her taut nipple playfully.

The cry of surprise from her was just enough to break her stubbornness and he brushed his thumb over the sensitivity above his palm as he uttered a single command.

“ _Let go._ ”

Allura’s head relaxed completely into the pillow as she cried out, electricity rushing through her body.  The building need inside her diminished as fire scorched her veins and left her a trembling, gasping puddle beneath the Drule.

Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she fought to catch her breath, riding the pulses rolling through her.

He waited patiently for her body to calm its tremors and her breath to catch; he held his position over her, his fingers still inside as her fire calmed.  Lotor’s eyes never left her face as she breathed heavily, overwhelmed by the new sensation flooding her nervous system.

“Great… stars,” she whispered between breaths, her eyes opening slowly.  The flush on her cheeks lingered even as she calmed.  Allura blinked up dazedly.  Something behind his golden gaze startled her. 

Allura anticipated a victorious laugh, a smirk, or even a heated lust on his face.  While she recognized shadows of all three, something far more profound was hidden behind it all.  She swallowed, exhaling once as her breathing returned to normal.

With his characteristic evil grin, Lotor waited patiently for Allura to regain herself completely, and just as she finished her recovery, he brushed his thumb over her nub once more, sending sparks shooting through her nerves.

She fell back against the pillow with a cry of surprise, startled that her body still had any sensation left at all.  Her breath hitched as he moved his hand slowly, and another skillful touch, fire flooded her blood once more.  She stared at him in open shock as her breathing became heavy once again, the flush on her cheeks darkening.

With exaggerated slowness, Lotor slowly withdrew his palm from between her legs.  Allura stopped herself before she pouted at the sudden emptiness inside her, attempting to grapple with a shred of her proper upbringing.  His focus never left hers as he raised his hand up.

Allura’s eyes widened as she watched him slip the same two fingers past his lips as he sampled her with a near-holy reverence.  She gasped in outright shock, her hand coming up to clasp her lips at the gesture.  Eye contact broke between them when his lids draped closed at the taste.  Without warning, Lotor’s eyes snapped back to her as he licked his fingers clean, and Allura couldn’t decide if the sight was scandalous, arousing, or some strange combination of them both.

Before she could decide once way or the other, the king leaned over her and laced his fingers through hers to draw it from her lips, and promptly kissed her, sharing her flavor between them.  Emboldened by Allura’s openness, Lotor took more initiative and slipped his tongue past her lips, mimicking the motion he had just used between her thighs. 

She shivered slightly under him, unable to prevent the licentious memories from coming back to mind, the warmth that flowed through her, the _ache_ in his absence.  Allura felt the Drule move, his body crowding over her.  Something rustled out of her line of sight but she was too distracted by the promise his lips made with hers.

Both his hands rested on either side of her face gently as he kissed her with the need of a dying man.  Allura’s hands slid from his shoulders to his biceps as she pulled him closer to her.  He broke the kiss as she gasped for air, a startled noise coming from her throat as her legs moved wider to accommodate his hips.

Lotor stayed very close to her body, his face and shoulders dominated her vision.  Her eyes widened when she felt a heat between her thighs.  He stroked his thumbs over her cheeks gently, his eyes never leaving hers as he edged himself further against her, measuring her reaction.  His serious demeanor broke into a fanged grin as her nails dug into his arms.

“…does it hurt?”  Her words were a breathless whisper.

“No, I won’t hurt you,” he promised, reigning in all of his strength to move as slowly as possible.  Allura flushed brightly at the sensation overtaking her.

“I meant… my grip… on you,” she whispered between breaths.  He paused in his movement to give her a moment to adjust to the intrusion on her slender body as he contemplated her words.  _She_ was concerned about hurting _him._ Her breathing evened out and he continued to ease himself inside, spurred by the gentle whimper she released when he hesitated.

“No,” he replied after a moment, his own voice taut with restraint.  “And if it did, I assure you,” he murmured as he settled fully inside her. “I would _enjoy_ it.”

He could tell his words affected her; the rush of heat through her body was conveyed back to him through their connection.  He sat between her thighs, fully claiming the woman he had coveted since the moment he first laid eyes on her.  Lotor didn’t move as he waited for her to grow more comfortable, and he took the moment’s rest to look over his conquest.

Allura lay nearly-bare before him, her golden hair tossed about the dark satin sheets, the firelight reflecting off every moving curve in her body.  Her breathing was deep, but it was no longer erratic.

“War,” she murmured after a moment.    He tossed her a perplexed look, struck from his thoughts.

“What did you say?”

“Why do you enjoy it?”  She was still whispering, her face flushed a delightful shade of red, her pert breasts rising and falling with her heavy breathing.  Allura had abandoned all traces of her prior decorum and she seemed untroubled by their actions.

“We are not having this conversation right now,” he murmured, watching her carefully.  The playful light that flashed in her eyes was all he needed to rise to the challenge.  He shifted his weight slightly; the subtle movement of his body inside hers tossed her head back in a whimper.  He took staggering delight at her exquisite sensitivity.

“Why not,” she whispered out.

In response he slowly drew himself nearly out of her, causing her to squirm.  He hesitated again.  The slow courtship was not an activity he was used to participating in.  Initially he had paced himself for her sake, but he was beginning to rather enjoy the affect it was having on both of them.

“Lotor?”  She turned and looked up at him, her grip tightening a bit on his muscles.  She bit down on her bottom lip shyly.  He needed no further invitation.

He leaned over and reconquered her lips with his while moving swiftly back to retake his wife.  Her back arched at the suddenness of the movement, but her heated body was eager to accommodate him.  He grinned against her lips as he drove his tongue past her lips in the same rhythm that his hips moved against hers.

Lotor found himself fascinated with the different sounds he could procure from the ball of sunshine writhing beneath him.  Her gasps of surprise were far more decadent to his ears when they came from pleasure instead of fear.  With his lips on hers and her nails in his flesh, her moans sounded like a symphony.

His cadence increased gradually, and with his confidence that she was comfortable, one of his hands left her cheek to return to her breast.  He stroked over her pertness, pleased by the sudden noise from her throat at the touch.   Allura’s back arched slightly off the bed and toward him and her nails dug deeper in the process as if she trying to pull herself closer.

Tilting her head back on the pillow to catch her breath, Allura whimpered.

“It’s too much,” she whispered.  Lotor found himself breathless with the intensity of their connection.  He elevated the pace further, his labored breathing matching hers.

“It isn’t, it’s just more than you’ve ever allowed yourself before,” he groaned out.  Allura found herself startled by the rasp in his voice.  She glanced to him over the flush on her cheeks, surprised at the prospect he could be as affected by their consummation as she was.

“I,” she started but stopped quickly as another moan bubbled to her lips.  “It’s like fire,” she whispered a moment later.  Lotor had no words for her in response as he focused on controlling his own fever.  Every nerve ending in his body was lighting up and it took every scrap of will to hold back.

The spasm through Allura’s body was all the encouragement he needed as he buried himself deep with one final motion.  She began to cry out as the flames tore through her and he was quick to silence the noise on her lips as he claimed them in a moment of unbridled passion.  Her hands left his forearms and quickly knotted themselves into his hair, pulling him closer as the foreign sensation shattered her from the inside out, magnitudes greater than her prior sundering.

His hands left her cheeks and circled around her body to draw her closer and cradled her shuddering form.  As the waves died, Allura was the one to pull back from the kiss.  She stared up at him with a stunned expression on her face while she caught her breath.

He waited quietly, searching her features for any indication of harm, fury or fear.  He found none that he recognized.  She relaxed back into the mattress and released her iron grip on him as her body returned to a calmer state.  Even her breath had returned to normal before either of them said anything.

“By the six heavens,” she murmured before closing her eyes in an exhale.  “Oh!” She cried out in surprise as Lotor moved off of her, withdrawing from her body.  The emptiness felt strange to her, but without the fiery need, she did not want for more.  She watched with a fatigue as he moved away from her, gathering up his silken pants.  Without a word, he disappeared into the bathroom.

She frowned as the emptiness of the room settled upon her, the scent of their courtship lingering in the air.  Allura sat up on the bed just as Lotor emerged from the bathroom and came to her side. 

With no explanation, his arms circled around her and he lifted her up before carrying her to the warm bath.

Carefully, he stepped into the basin filling with water, ferrying the weak-limbed woman with him.  Wordlessly, he settled into the steaming water, drawing her close to him as he did so.

With an expertise that did not go unnoticed, he quickly tugged the nightgown off of her and tossed it aside on the floor.

“What are you…” she trailed off and crossed her arms over her chest self consciously.  Despite being as exposed as she could have ever been before him moments earlier, she still felt shy to against him in the bay.

“Relax,” he commanded.  She glared in response.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

“Not as easy as you might think,” he drawled back under his breath.  He took a cloth and with some soap, he began gently moving the fabric over her chest and shoulders.  She squeaked and wiggled away from him. 

“Allura,” he caught her hand and pulled her back.  “Let me.”  The princess protested weakly as he meticulously washed her back, running his fingers through her hair.

“Lotor!”  She gasped in surprise as his hand dipped between her thighs,  paying conscious, considerate attention to every part of her frame, even considering the soles of her feet, much to Allura’s heated embarrassment.

He stilled her squirming with a distant, foreign look.

“Ablution is a ritual for us,” he explained as he finished the bathing by gently untangling her hair by hand.  A hot blush stained Allura’s cheeks at the unusual reverence he displayed.

“Oh,” she murmured as he helped lift her out of the water, draping towel around her body.  Only once he was certain that Allura was steady on her feet and cared for did he release his hold on her.  His new wife cast him a thoughtful look over her shoulder before she returned to the bedroom and he returned his attention to himself.

* * *

 

Allura stared at the bedchamber in surprise – brand new linens had been put on the bed in the short amount of time both royals had been in the bath.  After tenderly making her way to the dresser, she tugged on a pair of oversized pants and a cotton shirt to sleep in as Lotor came up behind her with a towel around her waist.

“How did… I thought there weren’t any more slaves,” she said.  A mixture of alarm flashed over her features, choking on the thought that he had lied, after all.

“There aren’t.   We still need staff, however.  Anyone still here was offered a living wage.  Many took up the offer,” he explained, tossing the towel aside.  Allura flushed crimson at the eyeful before she could turn her gaze away.

“Wouldn’t they want to leave?”

“They… didn’t all have a place to return to, unfortunately,” he offered gently. Allura felt her heart break as she realized he meant that their planets had been leveled.  “Many wanted to stay – they’re in far better conditions now,” he added quickly.  She nodded softly.

“It’s good of you to care for them, in that case,” she admitted, realizing more layers to both the complexity of what she had asked of him, and the multi-faceted man himself.

Lotor’s exhale caught her attention as he settled onto his side of the bed and pulled the sheets over his body before glancing to the delightfully prudish queen.  She continued to stare pointedly at the wall in front of her.  Lotor sighed in exasperation and went to the dresser to fetch another pair of pants.

“Better?  It’s time to sleep."  Allura looked over to him and nodded.  She felt physically and emotionally exhausted and was eager to rest.  She rejoined him between the sheets and stilled when his arm came to rest over her once more.

“Rest,” he whispered to her as his palm curled in, drawing her back closer to his chest.  She wiggled slightly before settling in.  The sensation of his strong arm protecting her wasn’t entirely unpleasant, even if it was a touch arrogant.  She hid the smile on her lips as she curled in and fatigue overtook her body and mind.


	8. Perturbation

"Allura."

Allura heard her name in the warm haze of sleep. She rolled over and curled into a ball.

"Five more minutes, Nanny," she muttered. A nudge jostled her shoulder.

"Allura, wake up."

"It was Chitter. ...I think."

" _Allura._ "

Her eyes fluttered open with the insistency of her name.

"Oh!" She gasped, startled by the tall frame of her new husband standing over her. He stepped back. She sat up slowly and looked around the room, dazed, as memories returned. Lotor strode away from where she sat in the bed, his boots clicking on the marble floor.

"Keep resting; I just wanted to tell you I’m headed to meet with the representatives of the other planets." He sheathed his lazon sword at his side and adjusted his skull belt. He pulled the red cape over his shoulders and carefully settled the crest on his shoulder as he stood before the mirror. "I…" He paused, placing the crown on his head and brushing his hair back over his shoulders. "I didn't want you to wake up alone." He said quietly after a moment.

"Oh…" She trailed off, stunned by the strange admission. "…thank you," she replied after a moment.

"Do you need anything before I leave?" He glanced back to his lovely queen, settled in the pile of sheets regally. She looked stunning, even in the cotton pajamas she had changed into. Allura stretched her arms over her head as she yawned.

"I'm fine." A blush graced her cheeks as he studied her for a moment longer. With a nod, he turned and exited the room. Allura sighed and flopped backward into the pillows as she reflected on her current situation.

_Did we really… Did I..._  She blushed brightly, and the subtle ache of otherwise unused muscles between her thighs answered her question.

"Look how far I've gone," she murmured softly, staring at the ceiling.  _Please, Stars, let his honor be true_ , she thought, a flare of concern rising for her planet once more.

 "Oh Father, I'm glad you're not alive to see this." She shook her head once as she realized she was, quite literally, in bed with her enemy to protect her people. While she could only imagine what such an arrangement would appear like on the outside, even she had to admit that it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she would have once believed.  Beneath the rough and rugged temperament, he almost seemed...

_Gentle?_

Allura closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to coax her body back to sleep. After several minutes passed, she realized she wouldn't be resting again anytime soon. Rolling off the bed, she winced as her feminine muscles protested the sudden movement. Straightening, she walked to the wardrobe and pulled the doors open.

She withdrew one of the remaining gowns and stripped down to her flesh. She hesitated. Her eyes fell to the dresser nearby and Allura carefully drew the top drawer open. Inside was an assortment of undergarments from essentially basic to shockingly sultry and she remembered what she had told Mia before.

_Is there really a line anymore? Haven't I crossed them all already?_ She exhaled and tugged the lace onto her hips and latched the satin around her ribcage before tugging the dress on over her head. The white and gold gown was the only remaining clean garment that was a color she still felt comfortable with.

"Well, I'll be able to retrieve some of my actual clothes from Arus soon, at least," she reminded herself as she shut the armoire. Allura eased herself into a chair before a vanity and lifted one of the elegant brushes between her fingers.

She began at the ends of her mane and gently nudged the knots out before working toward her scalp. As she finished, she froze when the door opened suddenly. Allura stayed silent at the small table, watching as Haggar let herself into the room, seemingly untroubled – or unaware – of the queen's presence.

The crone moved quietly toward the fireplace mantle, and Allura observed intently as the witch picked up what resembled an incense burner. She cackled softly to herself.

"Seems to have worked well enough," she murmured to herself. Blue Cat meowed from the doorway. "Yes, my pet."

"Haggar," Allura called, rising from the chair cautiously. She set the brush down as the witch spun on heel to face the monarch in surprise. "What is that?" She nodded to the artifact the witch quickly covered with her hands.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself about, your highness," she said quickly. She stuffed the small piece into her robes as Allura glided over toward her and sniffed the air.

"That scent. I smelled that last night. What is that? Incense?"

"It's…" she trailed off, as if searching for the right words. "It was… the petals of one of the only flowers that grow on this planet. It's supposed to be relaxing," she explained cautiously.

Allura stared at the woman with intensity. A beat of tension passed between them as she pieced it together.

"It's an aphrodisiac." Allura's response wasn't a question. It was a statement that both dared and begged the old woman to defy it.

"What? No, no, it's just a relaxing…"

"Haggar, look me in the eye and tell me that Lotor wasn't burning an aphrodisiac last night," she instructed firmly.

The witch regarded Allura carefully, her golden eyes narrowing. When a full moment passed without either saying a word, the queen unleashed an aggravated sound that rivaled a Drulish warcry as the foreign sensation of anger rushed through her.

"I'm going to  _kill him_ ," she howled in fury. She grabbed her navy drape and crown on the way out the door as it slammed behind her.

"She's fitting in well," Haggar murmured appreciatively in the wake of the gentle Arusian's fascinating and unexpected wrath. Blue Cat echoed his agreement.

* * *

 

Lotor stepped out of the meeting room and shuffled some of the papers around in his arms. He exhaled. Negotiating was difficult. He much preferred the more simplistic approach of making demands and having them met, but with the way the Empire was growing, it would be impossible to continue to operate that way without severe repercussions.

The most exhausting part was the listening aspect. He could no longer just explain his side and be done with it; he had to listen, process, and then procure a solution. He groaned. How Allura managed such a feat with such consistency baffled him.

"How  _dare_  you!"

Lotor spun on his heel as Allura stormed around the corner in a flurry of fire.

"Allura, my dear," he reached out to embrace his bride as she slapped his hand away.

"An  _aphrodisiac?"_  She hissed at him. She wanted to scream in his face, but she wasn't terribly keen on announcing the previous night's activity to the entire castle, and instead upon a seething whisper.

His jaw ticked as he quickly realized the situation.

"Allura, it was-"

"What, exactly?" She crossed her arms over her chest angrily.

"Why are you so upset? It… helped," he supplied carefully. The expression of unadulterated rage on her face quickly told him it was the wrong thing to say. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose as she fought to calm her temper.

"I… rely heavily on my instincts, Lotor. And I thought… I could trust what I felt," she explained carefully, a tremble in her voice. After a moment, she opened her eyes. "I thought I felt something that might exist, that... that there was trust to be had." No tears formed, but her eyes shimmered with unshed water. "And it was artificial. Something you created to… Just to get what you wanted. How can I trust my feelings when you… _fabricate_ them?"

He stared at her, thunderstruck. He felt the earth shift beneath him as the magnitude of her words settled in.

"You felt something?"

She drew her hand back as if to strike him and paused. Her fingers curled into a fist suspended in the air, trembling as she controlled the unusual emotion possessing her. A second passed by and she dropped it to her side.

"Clearly not. Obviously, I was incorrect," she informed him coolly. "I'll be taking up residence in an adjacent bedchamber from here on out, since I cannot seem to trust myself."

Lotor felt the air rush from his lungs as if she  _had_  struck him. In many ways, the cold distance she offered him instead was worse.

"You can't do that," he grumbled. "You're my-"

"The queen," she articulated back with a strange, newfound bravery, cutting him off. "And I'll do what I please, Lotor." Her eyes narrowed and all Lotor could do was rub his temple as he processed the near-violent shift in power between them. Allura exhaled shakily, hiding her own surprise at her bold fury.

"You can't tell me what to do," he finally said. Allura just shrugged with a mysterious smile.

"I don't have to do what you tell me. And I won't. I have fulfilled my obligations to our agreement."

"You were going to slap me."

"But I didn't."

His eyes focused intently on her.

"Why not? Nothing has ever stopped you from that before."

"...I can, in fact, control my emotions, Lotor," she said carefully. "I'll prove it from here on out."

When Lotor just glared in response, Allura tilted her chin up defiantly.

"Woman," he growled and she just shook her head once.

"When you take something sacred… and… and vulnerable and just… just toy with it…" she shook her head once more, stopping herself mid-sentence. "I can't even begin to explain to you how angry I am," she whispered, her shoulders trembling. "I should have never trusted you from the beginning. Or myself!"

"Allura, it was just-" He froze mid-sentence when she stared at him. Ice-cold blue eyes pinned him, shimmering behind the frigid tears she held back. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for his reply. He had none. After a moment of helpless silence had passed between them, she continued.

"Yes, that's precisely the problem. It was  _just_  something to you," she murmured. While her fury had calmed, her pain still lingered and he felt more animosity from her soft words than the louder ones. She just gave a single toss of her head and turned to leave him. "Let me know when you're finished. I'm ready to head to Arus. I'm anxious to speak with my team and clear the air." Without any further explanation, she disappeared down the hallway.

Lotor frowned.

"You still don't know what you did wrong, do you?" Haggar piped up from the background.

"Why the hell did you tell her?"

"She asked," she witch said unhelpfully with a shrug. "And technically, I didn't tell her. If you haven't figured out that she's clever yet, you're an _idiot_."

Lotor's eyes narrowed at the crone.

"Careful, Haggar," he warned. The witch only shrugged again in response.

"I'll admit; it is a bit refreshing to see that she's capable of anger. I was beginning to think she was too soft to really settle in here. _Clearly_ she can hold her own."

"Allura has never been for want for fury… Though it would be nice if she stopped directing it at me," he muttered dryly. "She'll come around," he said after a moment.

"If you say so," she hedged, turning away from the king to head back to her laboratory.

"You don't think so?"

Haggar paused and looked back to him.

"A young girl's heart isn't something to be toyed with, you know. Not if you ever hope to have any claim on it, anyway."

"What do you know about love, Haggar?" Lotor rolled his eyes at the old woman.

"I used to be young and beautiful once, don't forget," she tutted him as she continued down the hallway. Lotor's lips pressed together.

"She'll calm down," he reasoned, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced over the papers in his arms and shook his head. He debated abandoning his last meeting to chase after her, but given her current state of molten rage, he decided it would be safer to give her time to decompress.

* * *

 

Lotor stalked into the Throne Room and scoured the area.

"Where is she?" He hadn't been able to locate his wife anywhere. She wasn't in their bedchambers and none of his staff had seen her in the last few hours. His voice trembled between thunderous rage and concern. Zarkon was no longer a threat to her, but he worried more traitors lingered in the shadows.

The servants glanced up from where they were working and only shrugged to their king; they had not seen the queen lately, either.

"Fools! She was supposed to go to Arus with me, where the hell-"

"Hush," Haggar chided him gently as she entered the room.

"Witch! Do you know where she is?"

"Oh? Who?" Haggar feigned ignorance, her irritation from his prior display still flaring.

"Allura, of course!"

"Oh, Allura," she started, making a show of thinking deeply. "Yes… I think I did see her recently… where was it… What was she doing… Oh right, she flew to Arus about an hour ago in Blue Lion."

Lotor felt his blood pressure throb in his forehead. His rage escalated so quickly, he was left with little response other than a blank stare at the witch. For the sake of his own sanity, Lotor took a deep breath. Eyelids draped over his serpentine eyes as he reigned in his temper. Each word he spoke was articulated with a terrifying coldness and control.

"Why. Was I not. _Informed_."

"You were in meetings," she replied easily, untroubled by the Drule's temper. Having faithfully served Zarkon, there was little that rattled the ancient sorceress.

"Where was Blue Lion hidden?" He reached out for a scrap of information he had been trying to unearth for days from Allura.

"No idea. She stormed out of the castle. Blue Lion launched several minutes later."

"Why didn't she wait for me," he finished, the taut tremble in his tone dissipating as he calmed down slightly.

Haggar just eyed him, waiting for him to answer his own question for himself.

Lotor cursed.

"Prepare my cruiser. I'm going after her."

* * *

 

Lotor pushed past the confused guards at the entrance of the Castle of Lions. It didn’t register initially that the men appeared otherwise untroubled to see the Drule leader on their doorstep. He came into the Great Hall just as Allura and Keith exited from a hallway into the same room.

The lethal look in the commander's eyes told the king that Allura had already briefed her friends on the situation. Her hand grasped Keith's arm quickly when he flinched in Lotor's direction.

"Do not ruin everything I’ve fought for," she murmured to him. Keith's body stilled as the whispered words reached the Drule's excellent ears, but the venom in his expression lingered.

"One wrong move, Allura. I swear, I'll _end_ him," he whispered before taking his arm back from her grasp and storming out of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to watch her retreating commander. She sighed.

"Oh good, Lotor's here," Lance's voice called out with false cheerfulness as he, Pidge and Hunk emerged from the same room Allura and Keith had recently vacated. The Drule leader paused to regard the dangerous look from the pilot of the Red Lion.

"Be nice," she chastised him gently. "I need to go after Keith," she explained as she slipped past her teammates.

"He's angry, Princess. He has a right to be, too." The pilot's expression softened when it left Lotor and fixed on Allura.

"You all should be terribly cross with me, to be honest," she agreed.

"I can't be. It makes sense now. As long as everyone stays true to their word," his eyes slid to Lotor. "Let me know what I can do to support you," he continued gently, glancing back to Allura. "I want to help."

She nodded and gave his hands a squeeze.

"Thank you for being so understanding in all of this. It… it's a great weight off my shoulders to know my friends are still my friends. I was worried you would hate me."

“Princess, I don't think anyone could hate you," Pidge piped up, coming to stand near his hotheaded teammate.

"Just the same, I gave you almost no information and let you find out what was happening through the public media channel and I apologize I wasn't able to share the details before now."

"It makes sense – it wasn't stuff you could say over the communication line. We get it, Princess. Wait – Queen? What do we call you now?"

Allura tossed her head back and laughed genuinely before tossing her arms around Hunk.

"Whatever you would like," she answered. "I need to go after Keith, though, I'll talk with you all more later." Hunk nodded as she peeled off of him and made her way toward the door the commander had exited through.

"What about me?" Lotor crossed his arms angrily over his chest. Allura stilled and turned to look back at him, her expression cool and otherwise unreadable.

"What about you?" Her sharp words startled him. "You're free to wander. I informed my guardsmen you might be coming. They're aware of the situation. It's only fair you have roam of my castle as I do yours."

Lance whistled softly at the snap from the woman as she turned away.

"She's cross with you," he murmured quietly. "Not sure if that's been the state of things lately or if that's new but… I can’t say I’ve seen her quiet like that before."

"Well, there was that one time I ate the chocolate cake she was saving for the minister's birthday," Hunk mused thoughtfully.

"Oh, right. She was pretty angry then, too," Pidge piped up. "Lance and I actually took bets on if she would kill you or not."

"Who won?" Hunk glanced between his two friends, curious to which thought he would die.

"I'm not answering that," Lance said with a smirk.

"I could go for some cake right about now," the Yellow Lion pilot said, his mind honing quickly in on food.

Lotor just stared in open shock at the trio, completely caught off-guard by the casual attitude between them.

"How are you so calm?"

Lance turned and fixed the Drule with his gaze.

"We trust her. Without question. She's asked us to treat you civilly in so long as you keep your end of your… arrangement. We support her. I don't have to like it to honor her wishes. One broken oath, Lotor, and it will be my absolute pleasure to introduce you to the business end of Red Lion personally," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Moreover, I'm relieved Allura seems to be doing okay," Pidge chimed in. "The situation didn't seem right at first, but now it makes much more sense." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Hunk nodded in agreement.

"Dammit, Allura," Lotor muttered, pushing past the Space Explorers to follow his wife. He was subconsciously surprised to not be met with more resistance from them as he shoved open the door and strode down the hallway Allura had disappeared into. He broke into a jog, unsure where she had gone.

Lotor stopped as he came around a corner and two sets of chilly eyes fixed on him. Allura looked over from where she had been speaking quietly with Keith. She withdrew her palm from her commander's and let it fall back to her side. Lotor noticed a lion key remained.

Allura looked back to the Black Lion pilot and grasped his hand with both hers, closing his fingers around the sacred relic.

"Please, keep it. At least for now until things settle down. I want it kept safe," she explained to him. Keith finally tore his eyes away from Lotor to look back to Allura.

"On my life. I will keep Blue Lion safe." She smiled gently, stepping back from him. She eyed the closed fist around her key with a forlorn sadness.

"It's best this way," she added. "Safest."

"Allura," Keith started as the former princess turned away from him. She paused and glanced back. "I don't know if anyone has expressed this to you yet, and in hindsight I regret my admittedly hasty reaction before, but… thank you. Just know there is gratitude abound, from your people, your planet, and so many others. They just don't know who to bestow it on," he said reassuringly. He lowered his voice. "And if you ever need a bail-out at a moment's notice, we  _will_  be there. And we will handle any consequences that follow on your behalf. We're here for you," he finished with an encouraging squeeze on her shoulder.

With one last distasteful look toward Lotor, he turned and glided away down the hallway. Allura sighed softly and wrapped her arms around her torso as Lotor approach from behind.

"I'm headed to my chambers to pack a suitcase," she replied before beginning her path down a different hallway. Lotor followed without invitation and she did not stop him.

"You know I could have all the clothes you ever wanted sent to you room," he muttered, leaning against the dresser as he watched her intently load her clothes into a large bag to take with her back to Doom.

"I don't want _your_ things," she murmured quietly as she piled in gowns and undergarments alike. Nighties and training clothes also joined them. Into a second bag, high heels and boots alike were stuffed with a furious irritation.

"I know you're angry about-"

"I don't want to even speak of  _that_ ," she hissed out before he could finish his sentence. Lotor closed his mouth slowly and stared at the woman before him carefully.

"Allura, we need to talk about what happened," he implored gently.

"No, there is nothing else to say."

"Allura!"

" _What!"_  She turned to face him suddenly. Silence cut through the room.

He watched her carefully, drinking in her demeanor and body language. Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she stared him down. Restrained anger laced behind her eyes. Her skin was paler than usual and he noticed a hint of perspiration on her forehead. Slender digits coiled into fists and her lips were parted to allow for her heavier breath as she gave him her full attention.

"I… Why didn't you wait for me like you said you would," he attempted to diffuse the rising tension by shifting the subject. Allura snorted and turned back to her closet, pulling more clothes out.

"I reconsidered. It seemed more strategically appropriate to come here alone. What do you think they would have done if they saw a Drule cruiser land before I could explain anything?"

Lotor blinked, surprised. He hadn't considered that.

"Where did you hide Blue Lion on my planet," he asked, trying to figure out the mystery. Allura glanced over to him.

"You're really interested in that information, aren't you?"

"Like I said before, it's impressed me and I want to know how you managed it."

"You're not going to let it go, will you?"

"Not until you tell me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't suppose it's going to irritate you not to know, will it?"

"I do not like not having answers," he said slowly. His heart skipped a beat at the slow grin that curled at Allura's lips. Had her eyes been less frosty, it would have been a delicious sight. Coupled with her current demeanor, however, it looked uncharacteristically cruel and frighteningly out of place on the woman.

"Then it shall be my delight to keep that information from you," she said after a moment's pause. She turned back and latched up the suitcase and zipped the bag closed with a pointed finality. Grabbing both, she moved to the door.

"Allura!"

"I'm allowed to be upset, Lotor," she said, pausing to look at him. She sighed, her demeanor softening. "I am. Emotions of other people aren't something you can just control with demands. I know you're used to always getting your way, but feelings… feelings don't work like that," she said gently. Allura shifted the bag to her other hand so she could reach up and touch his cheek gently. "It hurt. You hurt me. Again," she added with a whisper. She didn't miss the slight flinch beneath her palm at her last word.

"Tell me what to do," he commanded after a moment. It took an iron will not to reach toward her, but he knew the ice was thin between them.

"Give me time," she requested. Her hand fell back to her side. Before she could retake her second bag with her free hand, he reached over and collected it for her.

"Let me," he said. When she stared at him intently, he added a word he was unused to saying, and he practically tripped over it in the process. "…please." A hint of a genuine smile twitched across her lips and she nodded once.

"I'm finished here for now, however. I've collected my personal things as well as any electronic equipment I need to do my work from Doom if you'd like to return. Things are feeling a little… tense at the moment here."

"What about Keith?"

"He needs time, as well. I think, as long as I stay in close contact with them, things will be alright," she said. "I hope."

"You're ready to leave Arus already?" He frowned down at the woman. She nodded once.

"I can work remotely. What would you do while I stayed here?"

"I…" He trailed off, realizing her point. In his hasty rush to chase her, he had brought very little with him. He would be left to his own devices wandering a castle that was unwelcoming to him at its very best.

"Exactly. I can work from Doom, and I think extracting you from here will ease the tension between everyone," she said. "I'll meet you there."

"You won't ride with me?"

Allura shook her head once.

"I'll take a small cruiser from my hangar. That way if I need to fly to Arus or somewhere, I'll have my own vehicle," she said.

"Not Blue Lion?" He raised an eyebrow at her but didn't divulge that he had overheard her conversation with the commander. She shook her head once.

"Not at this time. Maybe in the future once things settle down," she elaborated. She reached for her bag in his hand. Instead, he gently took her other suitcase.

"I'll take care of these," he said. She frowned at him for a moment then sighed and nodded. Allura could recognize he was trying, even if he were still doing it in his own, commanding way.

"Thank you," she said before turning to head for the hangar. "I'll meet you there," she repeated. Lotor sighed and watched the woman retreat down the corridor before taking her bags with him back to where his cruiser was parked outside. He wasn't terribly certain where he had gone wrong, but he realized the long path in front of him to make it right.

"Dammit, Allura. Always so stubborn," he whispered to himself as he prepared to head back to Planet Doom.


	9. Perception

Allura glanced up as the door to the study swung open. She stared for a moment at the new king before looking back down to the parchment strewn across the table before her. She sat at the massive table, her legs tucked up on the large chair she perched upon. Surrounded by the silence of tomes and comforted by a gentle hearth, Allura returned to the composition she inscribed upon the paper before her.

Her fingers held a large, ornate fountain pen that was marginally too heavy and slightly too long for her small hands, but her script remained neat and elegant with each stroke as a deep blue ink glistening in the firelight behind her trailing hand.

"What are you doing?"

The queen remained bowed over her calligraphy as Lotor spoke. Only once she finished the sentence she was working on, placed the pen back into the inkwell near her and folded her hands atop of the table did she raise her eyes.

Lotor felt his temper hitch. He did not like to be kept waiting, and yet he found himself staring across the room at the single woman in the entire galaxy that dared do so.

"Correspondences," she said simply, tossing him a careful look.

"And to whom are you corresponding?" His tone remained clipped, but he kept his annoyance reined in as she once more waited before answering, her eyes never leaving his.

A second ticked.

A moment bled as she challenged every fractal of patience the man owned.

"People."

The irritated twitch in Lotor's jaw did not go unnoticed, but he was steadfast in his efforts to appear calm before the easily-riled and swiftly-frightened Arusian.

"Allura, you can't keep holding me at arm's length," he said tensely. His perseverance had waned thinner every day that his bride had remained aloof and distant. It had been less than a week since she had sought separate bedchambers, but each hour grated on him like glass. She drew another blank piece of paper before her and after redrawing the pen, she began scribing another page.

"I don't see why I cannot," she muttered tartly, not raising her eyes to look at him as she spoke. "Seems to be safer that way for me. I've given you everything I promised I would, Lotor. Our agreement is concluded and fulfilled as far as I'm concerned." Had she bothered to anoint him with her eyes, she might have caught the explosive flash behind his gaze before he physically followed in kind.

"Allura!" His temperance shattered and he stormed across the room and slammed his palm down on the table across from her. She gasped in surprise and leaped away, droplets of stray ink falling over the pages. Her false bravado quickly capsized as his anger flared.

She clasped her hands before her chest and watched him through wide, frightened eyes. Lotor exhaled slowly, closing his own as he realized he would only drive her further from him if he continued. After a moment of tense silence passed between them, he breathed deeply and opened them again, his chiseled features softening only slightly.

"These are addressed to planets that are direct partners with Arus, aren't they?" he commented quietly, lifting one of the papers she had abandoned on the table. "This is marked for Pollux." His eyes snapped to her and Allura just watched him, shoulders trembling slightly.

She nodded once.

"I… I've already had verbal communications with… with the people who needed more immediate disclosure… I'm assuring the others of Arus' intent to continue business as normal," she explained carefully. Her fidgeting fingers betrayed her anxiety.

He stared across the table at her and drank in her form, acutely aware of the fear in her eyes. She stood recoiled from the table, grateful for the heavy piece of furniture between them, her hands tensed and her body braced to flee.

"Sit," he gestured to the chair she had backpedaled out of. Allura just shook her head once.

"No. You're angry," she whispered.

"And that scares you?"

Her golden head bobbed up and down twice in a silent response.

"Dammit, why can't you just trust me?"

Allura hesitated, averting her eyes away from him as she genuinely contemplated his question. His eyes snapped to her hands as the elegant digits twisted so dramatically as she wrung them, he worried she might injure herself inadvertently.

"I don't know how," she said honestly. He stayed silent, watching her critically. Her body squirmed, unable to stand still under his intense gaze. "I don't… I can't… …I'm sorry," she finished helplessly as she struggled to articulate her confusion.

"You did before," he started carefully, reticent to bring up the night they had spent together. When Allura paled a little, he growled. His muscles tensed as he leaned over the table she had been sitting at, his palms spread around the papers. His eyes never left her.

"I made a mistake," she said. His eyes narrowed on her dangerously and she immediately averted her gaze to the floor, a blush staining her cheeks.

"We are not a mistake," he said. After pushing off the table, he courted around the heavy piece to approach her. Allura shrank back against the wall, watching him with open panic as he approached.

"Don't," she began to protest but stopped when his stride did not waver. She darted to the side to escape him, but the former prince was far too quick. His hand closed around her forearm and drew the long-coveted woman to him bodily. She squirmed in response, struggling to break from his grasp.

"Let me go," she demanded, tugging on her arm as his palm snaked around her back.

"I will not," he replied coldly. "I've been patient with you this long, and I want what is due me, Allura."

"You have your dues," she cried out in frustration, her physical protest to his hold became more panicked and less articulate.

"You keep me away!" His voice raised to his familiar level of arrogance and Allura's fear bloomed fresh in her chest. Her hand pulled back to strike at him in the only way she knew to free herself, but the king had learned her tells too well.

His palm clasped around the offending wrist like a manacle, catching her strike mid-air before she landed the blow on him. He held her taut, one hand still gripping her forearm and the other like steel about her wrist.

"Because you  _hurt me_ ," she begged softly.

"Allura, I do not! I would never!  I swore-" Lotor's temper swelled even more as he pressed her back into the wall, struggling to fight the urge to claim his conquest all over again. Fire roared through his veins and flooded heat into his loins. The scent of the queen encompassed and consumed him, leaving him nearly blind to anything but her. The prospect of calming himself was a quickly-vanishing possibility… until Allura whispered something that chilled his blood completely.

"But you're hurting me right now…"

The haze of fervor clouding his vision diminished instantly and he stayed very still, taking in the woman before him with unbiased logic.

Gowned in her pink and white dress, her entire body was frozen mid-recoil from him as she fought to push him off her. Every muscle in her form braced for combat and her head bowed before him. Sunkissed hair draped over her shoulders and pooled around her face, hiding it from his view. The dainty, delicate wrist clutched in his fist trembled as he held it away from her, her other arm tensing to break free.

“…again.”

He released her and stumbled away as her body slipped to the floor. She drew her hands quickly back to her chest along with her knees, bowing her head over them as she struggled to calm herself.

"Allura," he breathed, the back of his thighs coming to rest against the table as he retreated, stunned.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She didn't raise her head as it rested against her knees. "I don't mean to try and hurt you. I just… I get scared. I don't know how else to communicate with you other than force. …I don't… I don’t think you can hear my words, Lotor. I would love very much to speak with you, but I do not think that you understand me."

She rubbed her wrist delicately in her lap, nearly hidden from his eyes behind her hair and knees. He watched as her body physically flinched when he released a growl of frustration unchecked. For a rare moment in his life of aggression and force, Lotor felt a sense of helplessness. He had no idea what words to offer her or what action to take. A strange sense of loss swam around him and echoed in a softer emotion he had never been exposed to before.

Without any other reasonable reaction, Lotor was left with only one. He cursed. Allura jumped slightly, but kept her eyes on the ground as she massaged her arms in the offended locations. She was worried her wrist could bruise. The sound of a chair moving startled her.

She glanced up to find Lotor had eased himself down into the seat she had vacated previously. He had turned it slightly to face her better, but it marked an intention not to approach her again. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together hanging before him. The most striking part of the image was his bowed head. Snow-colored locks fell like liquid over his shoulders and around him, brushing against his thighs.

 _Defeat_.

Allura blinked, feeling her own fear wane marginally at the weakness he displayed before her. Hidden in the royal study, the ferocious, arrogant king revealed an aspect of himself he dared show no one else, and the queen softened at the sight of it.

 _Perhaps he isn't unreachable, after all,_  she thought.

Lotor heard the rustle of fabric before him. He listened intently, trying to discern what movements Allura made without raising his eyes. She was so easily frightened…  _And so fragile,_  he thought, curling his palm into a fist in frustration. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He hadn't realized how tight his grasp was.

She was his anomaly. She was a fierce and resilient warrior, hardened and stubborn, yet her body, mind and heart were soft and exceedingly breakable. How was it possible for someone with such strength to shatter so easily? Using enough force to physically overpower the temperamental woman was enough to cause her harm, and yet she was easily able to wield the same amount of strength back at him.

"I don't know what you must think of me," she said after a moment of quiet thoughts of her own. Lotor glanced up to her, unable to look away any longer. Her own gaze was averted, regarding a bookshelf off to the side as if it were infinitely more fascinating. Her knees had dropped away from her chest and she sat in a less-defensive, reclined position against the wall with her hands still resting in her lap. He didn't dare say a word, but simply waited for her to continue. After several moments of frustrating silence, she indulged him, though her eyes never wavered from their focus away from him.

"I cannot fathom what sort of person you take me for," Allura whispered, her voice dropping in volume drastically. He felt his muscles tense with restraint as tears budded in the corner of her eyes. "I have done everything that I promised I would. I have even gone to Arus – and returned. Do you still fear I'll flee? Is that why you fight so hard to control every moment, every word, every action? Are you afraid I'll betray my oath? I…" she trailed off, a tear trailing down her cheek that she haphazardly brushed away with more annoyance than necessary. She sniffed, calming herself.

"Allura," he murmured.

"I could understand at the beginning. I mean… if given the chance I've never… opted to linger with you," she said. "But I made a promise. And I… I have kept it. Completely. And I still can't help but feel like I'm in a cage in all this," she finished with a sigh, looking back to her lap.

"You are not a prisoner," he commented, finally finding his voice.

"Perhaps not literally," she agreed. "But… you won't let me out of your sight. You are angry when I don't do what you want me to. You followed me to Arus in a fit of fury, even though by our arrangement… I have every right to do that. You… you… I don't understand this desire to control everything," she finished.

"You didn't need time," he said suddenly, the conversation they had had nearly a week ago on Arus suddenly making sense to the prince. "You needed _space_."

"I am now an, apparently important, entity in the superstructure of an entire race that rather despises me. I am struggling to learn customs, norms, dialects and languages…" She shook her head once, the overwhelming sensation crashing over her again. "I feel so strange and foreign here, and I do not feel safe."

"No one will harm you," he said firmly.

"Zarkon did. …You do. Why fear the people when there are the two of you? You've both been hurting me since the day my father first crossed Zarkon's path," she said softly, cradling her shoulders. "He burned my planet. Took my people. This culture of war and conquest is…" She trailed off, a thought striking her. Without warning, she leveled her gaze on him.

"Imagine a society that was built around kindness, Lotor. The most powerful person wasn't the strongest or the most vicious, but instead they were the gentlest. They were the first to offer help, the last to take aid. They could provide for everyone else around them, and they were  _loved_ for that ability. They never harmed another soul, and competition was about generosity. What would you think about that society?"

"Utterly absurd," he muttered, startled by the shift in discussion. "Why give when you could take?"

"…I feel the exact same way about Drules. Why take when you could give?"

The heavy silence that breathed between them was rich with prominence. A profound moment of communication passed between the two, long overdue.

"War causes pain. It hurts people. Even the things you desire – the slaves, the money, the jewels… war can destroy them before you claim them. But… in a reality where everyone gives what they can, no one ever loses."

"It's a false society, Allura. In a situation like that, a single, corrupt individual would bring it down in a heartbeat."

"True, the concept only works if  _everyone_  is genuinely invested in it. But isn't it worth that chance? There would be so many more rewards to reap by working in tandem with others, rather than just killing everyone who doesn't agree with you."

"Or you can build an empire around people doing exactly what you want because they fear the repercussions if they don't. There is no concern for disloyalty, and if anyone tries to overstep, they can be quickly laid aside."

"That's not loyalty. That's just fear. Look at Pollux," she said as she redirected the conversation back to something more relevant. "They feared you, but they weren't loyal to you. The moment they had a better option, they left. The instant that someone else could protect them, they sought that refuge. Fear is no way to govern. If you are even just a little kind, they rally around you. When the fire falls from the sky, they still stand behind you because they believe in that," Allura insisted.

"If you are too kind, then you have no will to fight when someone comes for you. Cruelty protects your people, Allura. Not kindness. Fear keeps them bound to you."

She shook her head once.

"I could never be cruel. It hurts me to hurt others," she said softly. "Perhaps that makes me a weak ruler in the end."

"Or…" Lotor trailed off, carefully rising from his chair. She glanced up to him as he approached her slowly. He deliberately extended his hand down to her in a way that wouldn't alarm her. "Perhaps it's somewhere in between," he uttered, a strange light flickering in his eyes as he watched her.

"What?" She whispered softly, placing her hand in his palm before she realized she was doing it. His fingers closed around hers and eased her to her feet.

"What if… the greatest empire, the strongest army and the most victorious leadership... requires both," he explained, looking down into her eyes with an unreadable expression on his face. "Balance."

Allura couldn't articulate why she felt his words were more profound than any he had ever uttered before, but a blush bloomed unchecked across her cheeks and for a rare moment, she did not feel fear.

"Perhaps so…" She trailed off, lost in the look on his face.

His hand reached up to touch her cheek and with a very practiced, controlled movement, he leaned toward her. Lotor felt the woman stiffen in his grasp, but despite both her hands being free, she did not push away nor strike him. He allowed her the freedom to do so if she so chose.

Her palms came to rest on his chest and her fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic as his lips brushed lightly against hers, feeling the tremble in her own stance. With little reprimand, he feathered over hers once more before kissing her with more intensity.

Allura took a single step away, her back coming to rest against the wall. He matched her stride, careful to hear her protests; yet she offered none and her digits still laced with his fabric. His other hand reached for her waist and he pulled himself closer. Lotor released a little of the restraint on his insatiable hunger for the woman and he deepened the intensity of their connection.

She whimpered in response, but her only protest was to gasp for air briefly before submerging herself back into his embrace.

Lotor found himself genuinely startled by the gentleness she offered him. His conquest was not one of taking or devouring, and despite the heat the latter evoked in him, her soft offering generated foreign warmth for him. It didn't come from a place of predatory lust; instead he felt nearly humbled by the shaky trust she yielded him. Despite her fear and pain, Allura was still trying to reach out to him.

The king startled himself by his next action; he eased off the kiss himself and stood over her while both caught their breath. He glanced down to catch her avert her gaze, a blush staining her cheeks. He stepped back to give her space and her wide eyes snapped to him in open confusion.

"Allura," he began, reaching out his hand to her. "I'd like to show you something, if you'll come with me."

She eyed him dubiously before nodding and placing her palm in his once more.

"What is it?" She glanced to him curiously, the blush from their heated exchange fading from her skin as her curiosity bloomed. Lotor reveled in the sensation of her willingly taking his hand again.

"Something I think you might have missed before. I believe you were too overwhelmed at the coronation to see it."

She frowned at him. He paused by the door leading from the study and picked up something he had set aside when he first entered. Folded in his hands were both the deep blue shawl and her crown. She stared at them wide-eyed for a moment and at his offer, she nodded. Allura allowed him to settle the royal drape across her shoulders before placing the crown upon her head.

"They are not just clothes, Allura," he explained. "They  _are_  you."

"Yours is red," she commented off-handedly, pointed to the red and gold garment she had seen on Zarkon countless times.

"Red and blue are both considered royal colors," he replied.

"Is red only for the kings, then?" He flashed a fanged grin at her question, enamored by her perception.

"No, they are both equal, but I rather thought red would clash with pink." He turned and led the stunned woman out of the study without waiting for a response.

"You picked that knowing that I would prefer to wear something like this under it?" Allura finally caught her voice as her mind settled from the stunning news. Lotor shrugged causally.

"If you don't actually care for that color, you hide it very well."

Allura felt struck by the thought. He had chosen things to suit her known desires. They walked down the hall in silence, the queen trying to wrap her mind around the enigmatic man in front of her. Lotor was hard, fast and cruel. He was lethal and represented everything that she stood against. …At least she had thought so.

"I haven't seen Zarkon around lately," she mentioned weakly, switching the topic again. Lotor just rolled his shoulders in response.

"I've been keeping him busy," he said cryptically.

"Well… I suppose that's… good," she supplied with a hint of question in her voice.

"Here we are, wait here a moment," he said as he came to a stop in front of a set of double doors. Allura nodded, a frown marring her features as he slipped through the door, closing it quickly behind him.

She waited. Noise came from the far side of the heavy door, cheers from the sound of it, but Allura could hardly make any of it out through the steel. She fidgeted. After what felt like an eternity passed, the door opened and Lotor beckoned her to join him.

Warily, she stepped through the threshold and found herself standing beside one of the two thrones overlooking the coliseum. She paled dangerously and Lotor gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"They aren't fighting right now, see?" He pointed down to where the two combatants were kneeling to each other. "And they won't until you leave, unless you ask to see the show," he said quietly. Allura blinked in surprise.

"You stopped the match to bring me out here?"

"Yes," he said carefully. "Not to see those two, but to see  _them_ ," he said, gesturing to the filled coliseum. He leapt onto a platform in front of the thrones, and his words echoed out to the crowd.

"Loyal subjects, I present to you your shy queen, making a rare public appearance!" He glanced back down to her and once more held out his hand to her. She shook her head once.

"Oh no, I can't-"

With more force than he would have cared to use, he grasped her hand and despite wanting to give her space to make choices, he pulled her up next to him where the entire crowd could see her.

"Lotor, what are you doing, they hate-" She paused as everyone around her broken into a deafening roar. She winced and braced.

And yet… they weren’t taunting or jeering. She took a closer look.

"Are you certain about that," he whispered in her ear, standing proudly beside the woman as she stared openly out at all the Drule and Drule-supporters that cheered their enthusiasm, loyalty and faith. Within minutes, a chant of "Fierce Is Our Queen!" broke out in the crowd and Allura gasped in surprise.

"It has been many generations since there has been a queen, Allura," he whispered in her ear, holding her with a firmness that inspired protection, but would yield if she decided to leave his side. "They  _adore_  you."

"I… I had no idea," she whispered.

"I know." He paused as the crowd quieted and pockets of civilians chanted for her to say something. She looked to him, panicked.

"You don't have to," he said. "But if you want to, they're listening. Your people are listening to you, my dear." The weight of what he said struck her and the fear evaporated.  _Her people._  She hadn't just married Lotor to save Arus. He truly intended to share his power and as such, she had adopted an entire _empire_ of people.

Nervousness still abound, Allura stepped forward as the stadium plunged into silence. Even the contenders had raised their eyes to watch her, enraptured.

She spun to look at Lotor.

"What do I say? I don't know how to talk of combat or battle!" She whispered frantically. He grinned at her lazily.

"Then don't. Say whatever you desire to, Allura. Be you. Be authentic." He laughed darkly at the familiar scowl she gave him before turning back to the group before her. The silence echoed on and she exhaled once and clasped her hands in front of her chest and bowed her head to gather her thoughts. Raising her eyes to the sea of people, she did what came most naturally to her.

She smiled.

"Hello. It's nice to finally meet all of you. I am Allura," she said. The sentences sounded so innocuously mundane that she almost cringed at her own words. Oration had never been her strongest suit. The spectators, however, devoured them with a fervor. Even Lotor, standing behind her had to admit he had never seen the crowd get so enthusiastic over war speeches or coliseum victories. Allura was truly magnificent, but it wasn't a trait she would ever see in herself, he acknowledged.

Her blush bloomed with her sudden awe at the positive reception she received from everyone. All Allura could do was wave, further inciting the noise. As it quieted, she nodded to everyone once.

"I hope to get to meet all of you more on an individual level in the time that is to come. Thank you for this hospitable welcome," she ended with a deft curtsy. Her mannerisms were stagnantly opposite what any Drule queen would have done, but no other woman could arouse such admiration from her subjects as she did. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and her face flush with relief. He extended his arm to her and helped her down off the podium.

"Once we have made our exit, feel free to continue the sport," he instructed the contenders, careful to make sure Allura was not a haphazard witness to the carnage his race enjoyed watching. Once the door clicked closed behind them, he heard the cheering ignite as the match picked up. Allura stood still, demurely holding her hands before her chest.

"Well?" He looked to her and she just smiled at him, genuinely.

"That was entirely unexpected," she admitted. Her bliss faded a degree as another memory struck her. "What did you mean by 'not had a queen in generations'?"

He stilled, contemplating her deeply for a moment. His serpentine eyes glanced around the room to make sure they were alone.

"We do not make a habit of sharing our power. It is not required by our laws. A son inherits the throne and becomes king."

"Then how do you produce heirs?" Allura frowned in confusion. When Lotor only quirked an eyebrow at her in response, she gasped, her skin turning bright red. As her innocence calmed, she mulled over his words carefully. "Lotor… do you have any sisters?"

His dark look startled the woman.

"None. …That I know of," he added.

"What happens then… if a king does take a queen and… their child is… female?" Allura's breath hitched in her chest as his golden eyes heated on her.

"Are you asking to bear me an heir, Allura?" He laughed as her temper snapped. The indignant sputtering the woman uttered to backpedal off the question left the king in deep amusement.

"In all seriousness," he said, catching his breath and soothing her rage. "It would be unprecedented. It is one of the reasons kings tend not to take queens. It complicates the line of succession. Those that have done so, have been historically blessed with sons," he finished. Allura scowled at him.

"Having a daughter isn't a curse," she muttered. She rolled her eyes at his chuckle.

"Yes, it is, but not in the dark way you're thinking. Sons are predictable. Daughters… daughters could drive a stake through their father's heart with their ambitions and willfulness," he said with surprising insight.

Allura flushed.

Alfor had always supported her decisions, but she knew he had always been worried or concerned for her. She wondered briefly if he wouldn't have been so afraid if she had been a prince. Allura shook her head once to clear her mind.  It mattered little.

"Well, regardless. Thank you for showing me that. I'm going to depart to the study to finish the letters I was working on. I'd like to get them sent today as the travel times for some of them will be long."

He gave her a nod, watching her for a moment as she stepped back.

"I'll see you later."

Allura shivered at his parting words. It was neither a question, nor a casual parting.

It was a promise.


	10. Prospect

Lotor strolled through the darkened corridor with military precision. He had stopped by both his bedchamber and the guest suite his elusive wife had been occupying and had been unable to find her. She was neither in the library, nor in any of the dining halls.

_Dammit_.

His frustration found no limit when it came to the strong-willed woman. One moment he was certain he was getting past her defenses, the next he couldn't even _find_ her. He had stormed every part of the castle he could think of in his search. After checking the hangar bay and ensuring her personal craft was still on the planet, he had begun combing the castle with more detail. Libraries, dining halls and conservatories had all yielded the same, unsatisfying lack of Allura. Each empty room heightened his irritation incrementally.

"I swear on all that is evil, Allura," he grumbled as the empty hallway echoed his bootfalls. "There is literally no other place I can think that you would…" he trailed off as his gait slowed to a standstill.

"Perhaps there is one," he amended, turning to look back at the doorway that caught his eye.

It was a relatively nondescript double door, but it was slightly ajar. He clasped both handles between his palms and pulled them open suddenly, stepping out onto the balcony he had first brought her onto in an attempt to coax her to eat.

Sure as the dawn, the brilliant woman leaned against the railing of the terrace, staring up with open wonderment at the sky. Her palms rested against the cool protective metal as the wind rustled both her hair and the layers of her gown. She looked utterly magnificent with the iconic Drule drape bathing her shoulders in midnight.

At the sound of his exhale, she turned slowly to look at him. One hand lifted to gingerly tuck her hair behind her ear before clasping in front of her chest demurely. The hint of a smile on her lips enlightened him that she had not been intentionally avoiding his company.

"How long have you been out here?" He walked carefully toward her, measuring her reaction with each step he took.

"I lost track of time," she said after a moment, looking back to the marvelous sky. "The colors are always changing."

"They do that." He came to stand beside her as her attention returned to the strange clouds overhead.

"I finished my letters," she offered in the silence.

Lotor simply crossed his arms over his chest and studied her profile. She kept her eyes on the heavens, unable to meet his gaze. While her body presented calmness in his presence, his keen eyes noted the tension thrumming through her muscles.

"Good," he replied, unsure how else to respond. He raised his eyes to the sky and searched for the beauty she saw in it. The clouds overhead were the same ones he had grown up under; the atmosphere was violent and spoke of conquest with its rolling thunder and constant lightning strikes. It was toxic, near-impossible to navigate into or out of without specialized equipment and on the rare occasion that it brought rain, the precipitation was acidic and lethal.

_And yet she finds it enchanting,_  he thought, glancing back down to her as she continued to stare up, transfixed.

"Will you," he trailed off as her eyes slipped from the sky to meet his. He coughed suddenly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Join me tonight." As he finished his question with a command, he instantly realized his mistake.

Her eyes veiled themselves with the same ferocity his planet heralded. She wrinkled her nose slightly and with a faint snort, simply turned away from him to wander to the other side of the balcony.

"Allura!"

Her shoulders stayed stiff and her back remained a rigid shield between her heart and his body. The queen gave no indication she even heard her name. Lotor stepped toward her and froze. He exhaled tensely through clenched teeth as he reigned in his temper. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, he fought back every instinct to storm the distance and carry her back to his bed.

"Give me another chance." He had wanted to ask it as a question; he recognized it would resonate better with her, but making requests was simply not a skill he had ever acquired. He made demands and gave orders. Lotor had never needed to tailor his words to earn the desired outcome – it was simply handed to him. The Drule did take a measure of pride in the fact that his words were quieter and calmer after several minutes had passed. Once he was confident he had control over his impulsive desires, he hazarded a glance in her direction.

Allura was watching him with both cool aloofness and curiosity over her shoulder. Her back remained predominantly to him, but she _did_ grace him with her attention as she genuinely contemplated his question, a thoughtful, calculating expression on her gentle features.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I don't… … _maybe_ ," she hedged. Her torso swiveled to face him as he slowly approached. Allura crossed her arms over her chest protectively, regarding him with a familiar skittish nervousness.

"Do you understand how difficult this is for me," he murmured darkly as he touched her shoulders. She flinched slightly, but did not step back or pull away. "To have you so very, very close to me but so distant… and to control," he exhaled sharply as he lost his train of thought when her cheeks blushed. Though she averted her eyes, she did allow him to continue to hold her, even as his fingers flexed around her shoulders and grew marginally tighter.

"It's not easy for me, either, you know," she finally admitted, her voice low and earthy. Lotor blinked at her, his ramping lust evaporating.

"What?"

Allura exhaled sharply through her nose and shifted her weight uncomfortably, still staring off to the side, away from him.

"What do you mean," he encouraged, leaning in closer. She tensed, but allowed him the space.

"I…" she paused, flushing at a thought passing through her mind. "This is completely foreign to me, Lotor. I don't know… _anything_. And you… know so much," she said weakly.

"About what? You'll learn about our people and the history-"

"Not that," she murmured, silencing him. "I mean, you're correct, but I wasn't referring to that."

"What then?" As his voice grew softer, he leaned in closer. Allura released another nervous exhale.

" _This._ " She pointed between the two of them.

When he remained silent with confusion, her patience snapped.

"Bless the stars," she buried her face in her palms briefly in frustration, a low, keening noise vibrating from the back of her throat. "You had a  _harem_ , Lotor. How do you think that makes me feel?!"

"I don't have one any longer," he said simply.

"That's not the point! I…" She shrugged off his hands and backed away, placing her palms to her temples. With a moment to calm her emotions, she just shook her head once and looked at him, realization settling in.

"Just like with the incense. You can't understand me… not with that, or with this. It's simply _not possible_ for you to understand me."

"I _do_ understand you!"

Allura frowned at his outburst. Lotor's temper spiked at the sad look she bestowed onto him.

"It's alright, I suppose there are things I won't ever understand about you," she continued. She leaned back against the railing as he moved toward her slowly. A strange chord struck in his chest as he came to stand in front of her.

Before him was the pride and joy of Arus itself. Her brilliant blonde hair fanned around her in the Drule breeze, her gown rustled quietly and her hands braced behind her against the railing. The sky overhead caught her attention once more as she raised her eyes.

_Mine._

The word echoed in his mind once more with a predatory lilt. He had succeeded in obtaining the one acquisition he desired more than anything else in the universe. She stood calmly beside him as she watched the skies.

_His_ skies.

In _his_ castle.

At _his_ side.

She did not flee. She did not strike him. She had  _married_  him. And yet, Lotor found himself in the surreal position where it did not feel like enough. He wanted _more_.

"Dammit," he muttered, causing her to startle.

"What… what's wrong?" She glanced back to him, her concern rising as he closed in around her. His gloved hands captured her bare ones behind her as his chest leaned in, pinning her against the railing. He watched as her eyes widened in alarm and her breathing hitched in tempo.

"There. That, right there. That's what's wrong," he said. He frowned when her eyes only grew wider with confusion. She glanced around them before looking back.

"I… I don't see anything," she whispered worriedly. He glared down at her.

"Stop that," he commanded.

"I don't understand!" Her words were breathless on her lips as panicked tears sprang up. She began squirming against him in an attempt to wiggle free and step away from the frightening man. "You're scaring me!"

"Then stop being scared!"

She froze as his voice thundered across the terrace.

"Is… is that what you meant earlier?"

"Yes!" His hands tightened on hers and she winced slightly. In a single motion he pulled her against his chest, releasing her hands so that his could wrap around her slender, trembling frame and hold her.

She pushed back and struggled against his grasp. In a swift movement, Lotor pulled her away from the railing, drawing them both back to the center of the balcony, still cradling the panicking woman against him. As he began speaking, she grew still and listened.

"You look at me with fear. With sadness. That needs to stop."

Allura's head snapped up to look at him with fire burning in her eyes.

"Do you think you can just order someone to feel a certain way, and then that's… that's just how it is? Are you  _sane_?" With a surge of strength, she shoved off of him and backed away. Lotor mentally breathed a sigh of relief that he had pulled them back from the balcony, recognizing that in her fear she could have easily lost her balance against the railing.

"Why is it that you look at Keith with warmth and affection but not me?"

"Because he's  _kind_  Lotor, he's gentle!"

"I've given you everything you could ever want! How much kinder could I be!?"

Allura could only shake her head in open disbelief at his warped perception on reality.

"I am not here because I love you. I am here because I love  _my people_. This is an arrangement that seemingly gives you everything you ever wanted, and benefits my people strategically. What did you think you were getting from it?"

Lotor stayed quiet, his golden eyes narrowing.

"I look at you with fear because I'm afraid of you. You  _terrify_  me! I look at you with sadness because you make me sad… What more of an explanation do you need? I look at Keith with warmth and happiness because he makes me happy. Don't you understand how emotions work? I don't choose which ones go where. Everyone else chooses that for me, I am merely responsible for how I react. I am scared right now."

"Allura," he began speaking but she continued.

"I am in a foreign place and very, very alone. And I am choosing to be brave and see it through. I am choosing to hide my fear as best I can, and to push through it. I cannot choose to not be afraid, Lotor, I can only choose how I deal with it," she finished, watching him with an unreadable expression on her face. Allura was stoic. Her features were soft as if she genuinely were trying to reach out and understand, but her eyes were guarded and wary.

"I frighten you?"

"I believe you even once told me you did that on purpose. I mentioned what a monster Zarkon was, and you boasted how you were ten times the monster he was capable of being."

His jaw twitched at her impeccable memory.

"Allura," he began. She stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.

He did not.   Lotor could find no words to describe the frustration and desire that festered just under the surface.

After several quiet minutes passed, the weary queen exhaled. Another moment ticked by before she inhaled deeply, her nerves steel again. Her eyes rose to meet his and he felt himself stunned by the frigid shields she bore.

"Since my emotions seem to upset you, I will take all due care to hide them in your presence, Your Majesty."

The coldness he found himself facing off against was similar to the one she had presented to him when she first accepted his proposal. Like before, it once more sent him reeling.

"Allura," he spoke her name again as her arms crossed over her chest. All traces of sadness and fear were gone from her expression, but he doubted they had left her mind.

"Will that be all? I'm afraid I am ready to retire tonight."

"Come with me. Come back to our bedroom," he instructed. He grasped her wrist before he realized his mistake. Her free palm collided with the side of his face as she wretched herself free.

"By our arrangement, you took both a queen and a wife. You did not take a bed warmer or an entertainer," she whispered at him, her temper flaring. "I'm  _not_  one of your girls." Without waiting for his reaction, she turned and stormed off the terrace in a whirl of pink fabric.

Lotor stared after her, his palm rubbing his cheek absentmindedly. The strike hadn't hurt, but the intention behind it left him stunned. As his surprise melted away, he cursed.

* * *

Haggar glanced up as the doors to her lair slammed open without warning. Only one man was brazen enough to do so. She tilted her head as the young king stormed in, fury on his face. The doors swung closed behind him and Haggar set aside the phylactery she had been working with. With a wave of her magic-worn hand, the mist in her workspace dissipated.

"Yes, Sire?" She fixed her golden eyes on Lotor as he slammed his fist down on a nearby table. Corked vials of various liquids were sent rolling, yes nothing shattered.

Haggar calmly collected the lost specimens and set them back into the rack on the table. She watched with muted curiosity as the man paced around her laboratory before slumping onto a stool near a workspace, resting his head in his hands.

The witch waited.

When he simply sat there and said nothing, she broke the silence.

"Did you need a robeast? Are we going to invade Arus?"

"Gods no," he growled out. "She'd hate me even more than she does already."

"Ah," she said thoughtfully. "Are you dissatisfied with your arrangement with your new bride?"

"No. …Yes?" He rumbled angrily at his own confusion. His fury heightened with Haggar only cackled softly. "Just. Can you give me a love potion or something? Make this work. Make her desire me!"

"There is something I could make that would produce those effects," she admitted.

"Do it," he commanded.

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"I don't care. She's… she's angry with me. She fears me. She's cold, Haggar. I want her love."

"And you think a potion will do that? A simple spell?  Do you think love is so simple it can be created out of thin air?"

"Well, yes! You just said you have one that could do that," he said grumpily.

Haggar shrugged and went to her crucible.  Lotor silently watched Haggar craft, his own exhaustion creeping in.  She spoke as she worked, adding ingredients from her stores and mixing.

“I said I had a recipe that could _produce those effects_ ,” she clarified cautiously.  Lotor said nothing, content to watch the crone work.

After several minutes of mixing fluids in a cauldron, the witch dipped a small vial into the liquid. As she removed the glass, a brilliant, fuschia-colored liquid filled the container, glowing with its own incandescence. She corked it and after wiping it down, carried it over to the king. Her hand held the vial out to him. His fingers closed around it but she did not release it.

"It won't be real. And it will fade with time as the liquid leaves her system, you know," she warned him.

"It's enough, and you can make more." He tugged at the vial, but she held firm.

"You just intend to keep a constant stream of drugs in her body? In small doses the potion isn't harmful. It's never been used in larger quantities before. I don't know what it will do to her, Sire," she said honestly, feeling slight alarm at the king's impetuous attitude.

Lotor frowned, but he didn't release his hold on the magic in his palm.

"But she'll love me, she could love me when it wears off," he said.

"Like she did with the incense," she asked sarcastically. "She  _loved_  that."

Lotor frowned, looking back to the glowing pink liquid.

"What the hell am I doing," he growled out.

"What you've always done," she said simply in response. "You're trying to take everything you've ever wanted, and you've finally found something you can't just… _take_."

"I could give her this and take her to my bed," he said.

"Yes, you could. How do you think she'll respond the next morning?"

"Perhaps a long duration of it isn't ideal, I don't want her harmed. But every once in a while… That could work!"  His frustration warred within him.

"Again, it's intended as a one-time use potion. I can't predict the long-term consequences, even using it two or three nights a week."

"Then what the hell do I do? She won't share a bed with me anymore!" He tugged on the vial.

"And why is that?"

"She doesn't trust me!" His voice rose as his anger mounted.

"And did it take a magic potion to get her to trust you the first time?"

"No," he grumbled out irritably. "But she was upset by the aphrodisiac."

"And your thought is to give her a potion to override her base instincts and corrupt her perception of reality," Haggar commented flatly, one of her luminescent eyes cocking as if her brow raised.

"She won't come to bed with me otherwise!"

"Well, if that's all you really care about," she murmured mystically, releasing the vial into his hand. He took the magic into his palm and studied it closely. After a second's hesitation, he stood up and moved out of Haggar's lab swiftly.

"Idiot," she muttered as the doors swung closed behind him.

* * *

"Allura!" Lotor stared across his bedroom in surprise. He had barely opened the doors to his chambers before he saw the last person he expected in his room. She looked up from where she sat curled on the side of the bed, a book in her lap. He stared at her from the doorway, dumbstruck, before quickly shoving the fluorescent pink vial into his uniform.

"I… I thought perhaps I wasn't being… open enough," she hedged after a moment, glancing down to her book. "I realized that I have been making it a point to spend as little time around you as possible and… it's not very fair for me to say that I don't know you when I take those actions.  And… I'm sorry I got so angry earlier." She glanced back to him to check his reaction.

"I'm not here for… for intimacy, Lotor," she said suddenly, recognizing the spark that flourished in his eyes. "And if that is your goal then I'll leave right now." Her eyes iced over and she tensed. Allura recognized the need to be as blunt as possible with the feverish king, but his wrath alarmed her.  Her fingers dug into the leather cover of the book apprehensively, but she forced herself to remain still and not flee. Allura waited for his response, braced for his fury with bated breath.

None came.

"Very well," he said after a moment. With a gasp, Allura's strained expression melted into genuine astonishment. "I am going to shower." He said nothing else and walked past her and into the adjoining bath. The door clicked closed behind him and Allura surprised herself by smiling slightly.

_He wasn't angry,_  she realized.

As she exhaled, the nervousness and fear she had been containing vanished. Allura wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she had worried that showing up in his bedroom and denying him physical intimacy might have been pushing too hard.

_For better or for worse, as long as he is truthful in his promises about Arus, I'm in this for the long run. It would certainly be easier on me to know him more, at the very least._

Her eyes glanced back down to the chronology of the Drule Empire in her lap. The massive, red leather-bound tome rested heavily against the long, white silk nightgown she was draped in. She glanced back down to the words before her and turned a page deftly.

Despite all her years preparing to be a queen, she had spent an unsurprisingly little amount of time preparing to rule the Drule Empire.

 She had long released her hair from any braids or bands she had it pulled back with and it fell long over her shoulders. Her drape and crown rested folded on the dresser of their bedroom.

_Ours._

Her eyes had flickered from the book to regard the piece of furniture.

The door to the bathroom opened and Lotor stepped out, wrapped in a robe. She watched him carefully as he walked to the dresser and procured a pair of black satin pants. He did not look to her, but she observed as he hesitated, as if contemplating something. Without a word, he returned to the bath to change.

_Is he… respecting me?_  

She blinked, struck. She recalled the last time they had shared the room when he had openly disrobed in front of her. Her eyes had been averted, but his actions had been unquestionable.  _His domain._ And yet… She glanced up to him as he emerged a second time.

Allura swallowed as her pulse quickened – and not out of fear. Lotor’s snowy hair was slick down his back, heavy with water from the shower. Droplets graced his chiseled face and he stood before her, dressed only in the black pants. They were snug enough to his muscular hips and thighs that she was easily left with the memory of their courtship. He said nothing as he reached for a dry towel and padded quietly into the room on bare feet, toweling off his hair as he did so.

_It's not difficult to see why so many women desire him,_  she acknowledge internally.  _It doesn't make him any less dangerous._

She forced her eyes back to the book in her lap as he circled around the bed and settled into his side of it. She could feel his eyes on her as she stared at the pages. The ink blurred and she divined no understanding from the text, but Allura was too afraid to meet his gaze.

With a surprising softness, his index finger curled under her chin. Startled, Allura looked to him.

"Goodnight," he said after a moment of silence. He released her before settling under the sheet on his back. Allura watched him from her sitting position. Lotor appeared untroubled by the ambient lighting in the room as his eyelids draped closed and his hands folded across his torso.

She watched him a moment longer.

Even his facial features were firm at rest.

"You're so angry," she whispered softly, more to herself than anyone else. She reached out and brushed a lock of his damp hair from in front of his face. Allura pulled her hand back to her lap and just shook her head once, appreciating the moment he was granting her. While she doubted he had fallen asleep in so little time, he allowed her the liberty to pretend he had.

Returning her gaze to the book in her lap, she found her mind was nowhere near her studies. Allura closed the tome and set it aside before rising from the bed to darken the lights.

She found herself in dreamlike situation as she lifted up the sheets and willingly slid into the same bed that Lotor slumbered in. As she curled on her side and watched her new husband for a moment longer, he made no movement toward her. With a warm smile, the queen rolled onto her other side and left her back to him, feeling comfortably safe once more.


	11. Preface

_Gently._

Lotor's fingers curled into a fist and he pulled his hand back carefully as he reminded himself of her fragility. With a more mindful touch, he hesitantly reached back out toward the sleeping goddess in front of him. He lay propped up on one arm, his eyes hungrily devouring the golden-haired queen as she lay curled on her side.

One of her hands tucked against her lips, the other curled under her face. White silk spiraled decadently out from her slender frame from when she had turned onto her opposite side over the course of the night.

With the faintest of touches, he brushed a feather-fine strand of hair from in front of her face. Reveling in her warmth, his thumb traced the contour of her cheek, coming to rest near her jaw. With a contrastingly light touch to what he was used to, he brushed his digit across her bottom lip. She stirred only faintly, offering a warm shift of her body as she murmured against him.

He withdrew his hand and reclined, watching contentedly as the woman slept. In many ways, she was the spitting image of what every Drule aspired to be; fierce, loyal, and brave; ironically all qualities she could not see in herself. In other ways, she was the astonishing opposite; gentle and kind, fearful and wary - and staggeringly benevolent. How the two halves came together into one, brilliant entity utterly fascinated him.

Lotor traced the back of his fingers lightly down her bare shoulder to her elbow where her arm folded back under her. The dark, satin sheets pooled around her waist and she had kicked off the throw blanket at some point in the night.

Allura sighed softly in her sleep.

_What is it that you dream about, my dear?_

He frowned as a smile touched her lips and her eyelashes fluttered subtly. She uttered a faint noise, a sound he could only identify as a cross between a whimper and a moan.

Jealousy bubbled in his veins like a violent volcano as he leaned back to watch her with more intensity.

_Who_ _, exactly, is it you dream about?_  

He amended his question in his mind bitterly. It certainly wasn't him, not with the soft blush that touched her cheeks. His lips pressed together tightly as he contemplated his options, trying not to settle on her charming commander.

Abruptly, he sat up, unable to continue watching the woman revel in a fantasy. Lotor’s eyes glanced across the room to where his vestments hung. Still tucked inside an interior pocket was the fluorescent vial. Lotor swung his legs off the bed and the shock of the cold floor under his bare feet temporarily stalled his intention. He exhaled once, calming his annoyance.

_You're so angry._

Her voice from the night before echoed in his memory. _She’s right._ The Drule sighed in frustration, burying his face in his palms as he propped his elbows on his knees. Just as he began to relax, the woman resting behind him made another soft, delighted noise in her sleep and he couldn't stop the torrent of fury that exploded back through his system.

He couldn't help his biology – Drules were naturally territorial and aggressive. She was  _his._  He had made her his in every possible way, save one.

Serpentine eyes flashed back to the secret weapon hidden in his pocket across the room.

_I will have you all,_ he thought darkly, dropping his hands back to the mattress. Just as he started to push up from the bed to cross the room, Allura uttered the only word that could freeze his fury cold.

"… _Lotor_."

Barely afraid to breathe and stifling his choke, he slowly turned to look back at his queen. As far as he could tell, she continued to sleep and dream. The soft pink touches to her cheeks lingered, and her lips remained curled in a small smile.

He stared at her, his eyes wider than he ever thought possible. Shock was not an emotion he was used to feeling, but he regarded her with open astonishment, a hint of wonderment and something he couldn’t wholly identify.

_What is this strange feeling?_

He swallowed, unable to place the mysterious emotion coursing through him. His heart moved at a pace faster than normal and a strange heat thrummed through his chest. He was neither afraid nor angry; the sensation was… warm?

Allura's eyes blinked open suddenly and she stared up at him in a daze. A moment of silence settled between them before she spoke.

"Are… are you alright?" She whispered.

"Why do you ask?" He continued to stay very still, his torso turned toward her while his legs hung off the edge of the bed.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look so-" she paused as she yawned suddenly. "-hopeful," Allura finished. She closed her eyes and stretched her arms and back, missing the stunned expression on his face.

_Hope_.

That was what it was called.

"It's rude to watch girls when they sleep, you know," she murmured as she rolled onto her back lazily, curling her toes as her legs stretched. "You might steal their dreams."

"And what is it that you dream about?" He watched her with a fiery intensity as her body relaxed from the stretch.

"Depends," she said simply, eyeing the ceiling happily, blissfully unaware of the cascade of fire thrumming through his veins. "Sometimes I dream nightmares of Zarkon, sometimes wonderful memories of my people. The Summer Festival is one of my favorites, and it's coming very, very soon," she whispered conspiratorially before looking over to him with winsome smile. After a second of seriousness passed, her expression hardened. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he said quickly.

"Did I say anything in my sleep?" Her suddenly impassive face gave nothing away, but she eyed him with wariness at his swift answer.

"No," he lied. He paused, curious. "What's the Summer Festival?" He watched in awe as her eyes lit up like a darkened sky at dawn.

"It's amazing, it's a holiday on Arus," she began, excitedly. "It celebrates life, the day, the sun, fire, everything! It lasts from sunset to sunrise. There are fire dancers, flame-eaters, artists, chefs, entertainers, performers, lanterns, competitions... anything you could ever imagine! It's spectacular, Lotor, and everyone is so... so  _happy_  when it happens. Families and children and war heroes alike all come out to enjoy it." She sighed happily, as if reminiscing. She paused, her earth-shattering eyes glancing his way coyly.

"You might like it, if you wanted to come see it," she hedged waifishly.

"I doubt I'd be welcomed," he muttered.

"Oh, I think you would!" Allura rolled onto her side and sat up abruptly. "My people aren't nearly as..." She froze suddenly, her words dying on her lips as something struck her. Lotor tossed her a lazy look.

"I know exactly what you were going to say. Go ahead and finish, it... doesn't trouble me like it probably should. I rather believe that to be your doing, by the way," he smirked at her.

"I..." She blushed brightly. "They aren't nearly as fearful of you as they are of Zarkon," she finished softly, worried he would rise to the challenge.

"Will you be there?"

"Of course, pending some diplomatic disaster elsewhere that would require an immediate intervention. It's one of my favorite holidays!" She clapped in front of herself softly. "I look forward to it every year."

"Then it shall be my pleasure to attend, as well," he said, watching the blinding smile on her face with decadent fascination.

"It will be lovely! You'll see Arus while it's celebrating, not in pain. It... it's so beautiful, Lotor. I..." She frowned as she paused. "I don't know if you'll find it as wonderful, since we have different visions of beauty, but I am delighted to be able to share a piece of mine with you."

He swung his legs back onto the bed and crossed them, bracing his elbows on his knees as he watched her sit lazily next to him.

"Lotor?" He paused before answering her, savoring the sound of his name on her lips.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What do you dream about when you sleep?" She leaned back on the bed, moving her eyes to the ceiling above them, but her attention remained fixed on the powerful, dominant body sitting beside hers.

"Are you sure you want to know that?" He tilted his head to the side as he watched her closely.

"I think, yes, I would like to know," she responded after a moment of thoughtful consideration. "Even if it's… dark or... ..or violent," her whisper trailed off as he leaned over her.

"I could just show you, if you wanted," he murmured quietly, drawing his palm up her side, over the curve in her waist and the swell of her breast unabashedly.

" _Lotor!_ " She flushed brightly, sitting up abruptly once more. "Is  _that_  what you dream about?" Allura looked positively scandalized. His eyes trailed over her body, drinking in every curve and turn he could find. She flushed crimson at his open courtship before she crossed her arms across her chest self consciously. "Anyway," she attempted to redirect his intention. His eyes snapped up to hers and he could only sigh.

"You will still deny me," he said quietly. It wasn't a question or an accusation, simply a statement. She blushed brightly and looked away from him.

"I…"

"Allura," he began. He reached toward her but froze. With his arm half-outstretched and the queen looking worriedly over at him, he realized his mistake. The image painted between them was far too familiar; Allura flinching away with wariness from his open, grasping reach. 

_Give. Don't just take._

His fingers curled back in and he withdrew his hand.

"If - and  _when_  you're ready," he conceded, more to himself. "In the meantime, I require a shower." She blinked at the shocking display of subtle gentleness from the warlord next to her. He stood up carefully and began to make his way to the bath. Clearing her mind of her surprise, she called after him.

"Didn't you take one before bed?"

"It wasn't cold enough," he muttered, closing the door behind him. Allura stared at the barrier between them, confused by his words.

* * *

 

Allura found herself in the surreal situation of sitting next to Lotor for one of his meetings. She was draped in her usual pink and white gown, the midnight sash over her shoulders and her new crown upon her head. Similarly, Lotor sat stoically next to her, his own royal accessories gracing his frame. He had retained most of his usual style – including the infamous skull belt – since the coronation and had only incorporated the cape and headdress his father had once worn.

Her hands twisted nervously in her lap. She recognized the importance of being involved in politics – especially if he intended her to be a partner in the process with him – but being stared down by three other Drule lords was almost too much for her. They argued between themselves and occasionally threw a complaint Lotor's way. He simply stayed quiet, listening. Allura glanced up to him demurely and found herself surprised by the calmness that blanketed the traditionally hot-tempered face.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined Lotor of all people, hearing and tolerating complaints and criticism without an angry or even violent reaction. He simply sat and let the three men air their grievances.

The subject of contention was the expansion of the Empire. Allura found that the release of the slaves had been a global decree – not just on Planet Doom. She wondered briefly if the protesting lords knew that she was the one responsible for it.  _If they know, they'll kill me._  A fist slamming down on the table jarred Allura from her worrisome thoughts and she glanced up to the angry men.

"Careful," Lotor said calmly, but not without authority.

"Sire, the situation is critical. Conquering and destroying… it's… it's our way of life! It's what makes us who we are. If we cannot take spoils and riches from other planets, how will we feed our children? How will other races and planets know to fear us? It is our birthright and our heritage to continue this legacy!"

"We simply cannot continue to support having more slaves than we know what to do with," he said quietly. One of the other lords growled his frustration and the first continued his argument.

"Then we take from more planets!"

"And then what? Every planet we desecrate produces no more riches for us. Eventually, we have too many mouths to feed. We are in a splendid point in our expansion; our own people are flourishing and growing in population. We must focus on them. We can no longer afford to feed, care for or house slaves."

"Then we don't, we’ll just use them until they die!" The angry lord glanced across the table when Allura gasped in shock. "You have a problem with _that_?"

"I'll remind you once – and only once, you're speaking to your queen with that tone of voice. Do it again, and I'll cut your tongue out myself," Lotor growled dangerously.

The lord grumbled something vaguely resembling a murmur of assent, but it seemed to temporarily satisfy him.

"Okay," the third man spoke up for the first time. "So how can we have our slaves back?"

"You can't," Lotor said simply. One of the men snorted in irritation.

"But sire," he pleaded, seemingly calmer than the other two with him. "There must be _something_ we can do. Our culture will die if we stop conquering planets altogether. Most of our income and food come from expeditions like that."

Allura froze when Lotor turned to look at her, pinning her with his gaze.

"Any ideas, my dear?"

"I… I… what? You… want my opinion on this?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, completely surprised by his question. She shrank back into her chair. She wondered briefly if he was courting an attempt to scare her from the politics of his Empire, or to prove she was unable to handle it. It would be an underhanded manipulation technique to offer her power only to demonstrate she was unworthy to wield it. The fault would fall on her; not him.

Three other sets of eyes focused on her, one with open curiosity and the others with judgment.

"Yes," he said simply.

She exhaled once to calm her fluttering heart and squared herself to the table before her. After placing her folded hands on the table, she contemplated the situation earnestly for a moment and drew on her reserves for the fortitude to withstand the judgment.

"She's from Arus, she's not going to support-"

"I think," she began, catching the attention of every man in the room, but her eyes stayed fixed on her folded hands, her fingers toying with each other anxiously. "I think that the issue is the survivability of the Empire. If having and taking slaves is causing a drain on both finances and physical resources, then it simply cannot continue."

"See? I told-"

"However," she continued, undeterred. "I see no reason the culture should suffer for that one piece. Only part of the conquering is bringing back living spoils, right?" She glanced up to look around at the surprised faces. "So don't. Bring back everything else – the wealth, the food. You could even use some of the wealth to pay a wage to attendants, if you wanted. By leaving the people unharmed on their planets, they can then rebuild… and recreate the infrastructure. It won't leave a dead planet in your wake – you'll get everything but the living labor, and still retain your fierce image. That's… that's what I think, anyway," she added the last line weakly when silence met her suggestion. She chewed on her lip self-consciously, glancing around at the impassive faces watching her.

"Well?" Without another comment, Lotor glanced up to the three men.

"That's actually… …quite brilliant," one murmured.

"We could then invade the planet a second, third, … many more times as they regenerate resources. It won't become just a dead rock. I really only need a few service girls anyway." Allura shivered at the thought.

"That… that could easily work. My Lord?" The rulers of the planets looked toward the king of the empire for his word on the matter. He, instead, looked down to Allura.

"Does that resolution satisfy you?" She blinked in surprise at his question before nodding once. All her doubt and concern about him trying to alienate her from politics vanished when he ultimately gave her the final word in the matter.

"I'm sad for the people who will lose the things they worked so hard for, but pleased they will not be harmed," she explained. She ignored the snort from across the table. "But it is also important to acknowledge cultural differences and to try and preserve that heritage," she added.

"Then it shall be so," he announced, glancing back to the planetary rulers across from him. "See that your home worlds learn of this." He rose from his chair and offered the crook of his arm to Allura. She gently rose by his side and demurely took the offered arm.

"Your Majesties," the lords presented a formal bow to both Allura and Lotor before exiting the conference room.

"Meetings are so tiresome," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I don't know how you put up with them."

"It's good to hear what other people have to say and are feeling," she explained. She reached over to pat his arm with her free hand. "Otherwise you would never know that your people are unhappy."

"That's never mattered to me before," he said quietly, leading the way out of the room. "But, I learned from my father. It didn't matter to him either, and it's put us on the edge of a knife. We can either fall into poverty, or rise into glory." He glanced over to her and smirked wickedly. "I intend for it to be the latter."

Allura stopped in her tracks. Lotor continued on another three steps before turning to look at her, confused. She stared down at the floor, her mind racing with his last comment.

"What is it," he asked. She just held her hand up as her mind rolled through the surplus of information in her memory. All the pieces were there, but they weren't yet in the right order.

"Allura." She shook her head as he spoke again. She pressed her digits to her temples.

"I'm thinking, just wait," she said. Her mind rushed through the conversation she had just had with the Drule lords before flashing back to sitting in the kitchen with Lotor several nights before. Pieces of both conversations surfaced and the puzzle began to reorient itself in her mind before clicking into place. She raised her eyes to stare at him and he found himself taking a step back under the icy look. Her hands fell to her sides with a worrisome finality.

"You would have freed the slaves either way. And yet you still let me use it as a leverage point in our negotiations. I  _knew_  I was missing something that evening," she murmured, referencing that night, snapping her fingers once.

"Don't misunderstand - I had no intention of releasing my hold on Romelle or walking away from Arus with you still out there," he explained.

"That's not the point!" She glared at him. "I don't like being deceived! Is there anything else you haven't told me? You're making a habit of hiding things from me," she said angrily.

"No, I've been honest-"

"Incense," she said, counting off her fingers. "The fact that I didn't need to use the slaves as leverage because you were going to do that anyway. Everything comes in threes, what else are you hiding from me?" She stared at him intently as he shook his head once.

"Nothing," he said.

Allura trembled with emotion before exhaling to calm herself.

"And can I trust you on that?"

Lotor stared at her carefully before nodding once.

"Yes."

She scowled before walking toward him, dropping her mantle of battle. Her emotional shield shattered at her feet as she retook her place at his side.

"Just, be honest with me, please. Even if you think I won't like it, I'd… I'd rather hear it than not," she said quietly, resuming her pace beside him. "I want... ...I know it's new to you, but I like talking," she admitted, her spirits lightening slightly. "I would prefer to have a difficult discussion about something we may not - or ever - agree on, and at least come to terms with the fact we don't agree... than just... have something swept under the rug or hidden in the closet because it might cause an issue. I prefer to know. And... I am always open to hearing another side of things. Please don't forget that," she murmured, her palm touching his bicep gently as she walked beside him.

He stayed silent, his mind flashing to the vial he had taken from Haggar. He had removed it from his coat and it was buried at the bottom of the dresser, and never had he felt more like a bastard than he did just then. She was asking for honesty, begging him to share his side, and he still decided in that moment the best course of action would be to return it to the witch as soon as he could do so discreetly. As much as Allura wanted to know everything, for better or worse, he didn't fancy trying to explain his intention to chemically cloud her judgment.

"Will you still join me on Arus for the Summer Festival?" She turned hopeful eyes up at him in his silence. He blinked in surprise, returning to the moment between them. "It starts tomorrow night," she added.

"Of course."

The smile that lit up her face was breathtaking. She nodded once, pleased, and redirected her eyes forward.

"The boys should be in better spirits by now, anyway," she added. Lotor stilled. He hadn't contemplated the ramifications of running into the Voltron Force on Arus again.

"What is it?"

"Your comrades," he said flatly.

"They'll be fine," she explained dismissively.

"How do you know they won't attack me?"

Allura looked up at him with a very coy smile on her lips.

"Because they understand the situation and respect my wishes. I trust them. I trust them with my life, and yours too," she said. "It will be nice to see everyone again," she added thoughtfully.

His eyes glanced forward once more, gliding beside her.

"It's beautiful," she said suddenly in their silence. He glanced down to her.

"The Festival?"

Allura nodded so feverishly she nearly jumped up and down.

"I..." she trailed off, a blush staining her cheeks. She glanced away from him as she gathered her words. "...It pleases me that you would like to join me," she admitted at last, not yet meeting his eyes.

"How soon do we need to be there?" He stared at her profile, fascinated by the contours of her flushed face.

"It would be ideal if we arrived either late tonight or early tomorrow morning. The festival lasts all night so, to fully enjoy it, we'll want to try and sleep as much of the day away tomorrow as possible. I'm not sure what is on your radar for meetings however," she added, looking toward him suddenly.

"My schedule is clear. We'll leave for Arus in a few hours."

He felt that strange warm sensation flood his chest and his heart accelerated as her face lit up with excitement and her hands clasped together in front of her.

_What is this witchcraft,_  he thought darkly, unable to tame the festering desire to encourage more of her delighted reactions. He shook his head once and continued to lead her down the hall, lost in thought.


	12. Pyre

Allura watched as Lotor deftly leaped from the cockpit of his cruiser before pivoting on his toe to face her. He extended his palm down with a roguish grin and she placed her palm in his offered one. In a delicate movement, he helped her rise to her feet and step out of the back passenger seat of the tiny craft.

More than once, he had offered to take a larger, more comfortable ship, but Allura had always seemed content with the cruiser. Despite its smaller size, it was comfortable enough for the two of them, and he suspected she rather appreciated being away from the Doom guardsmen. Additionally, the view that the glass dome offered while traveling through space was undeniable. He wondered briefly just how often she was able to travel - the hunger to explore was staggeringly obvious every time they launched.

"Allura!"

Two sets of eyes glanced up as a cadre of space explorers charged into the loading dock, smiles on their faces. Other than a wary look cast briefly Lotor's way from the commander, her teammates were in cheerful spirits as she rushed forward to greet them.

"You came back for the Festival, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't dream of missing it, Pidge," she laughed softly.

"Wow-wee, look at that," Lance whistled, reaching out to touch the dark blue fabric wrapped around her, his fingers brushing the gold crest by her left shoulder. "That's what queens in the Drule Empire wear, right?"

She nodded once, missing the darkening look on Keith's face.

"And that crown!" Hunk chimed in, pointing at the headpiece. In her haste and fury to rush to Arus, Allura had not bothered with the ornamental pieces before. After feeling marginally more comfortable in her new role, she was making the attempt to embrace all that came with it.

"Let me go settle in boys, we can catch up in a bit," she said with a giggle. "If you want to meet in the parlor, we'll be there briefly." She tossed a look to Lotor over her shoulder before nodding with her head. "Come, I'll show you to our room."

" _Their_  room?" Allura ignored Keith's remark as she glided past the boys with her new husband tense at her side.

"I mean... they are... married," Lance offered almost uncomfortably.

"But you don't think they're actually... you know..." Hunk looked after the couple walking down the corridor toward Allura's bedroom. "Naw, she wouldn't... ...would she?"

"Is it really any of our business, anyway?" Keith looked down to Pidge who shrugged helplessly in response. "I mean… it's not."

The four space explorers blinked in shock when they saw Allura glance to Lotor at something he said before she burst into giggles without warning.

"No shit," Lance muttered, hiding the smirk on his face when he caught sight of Keith's scowl.

"At least she seems to be doing okay, that's what's most important," the commander conceded, though he couldn't be sure if he were convincing his teammates or himself more.

* * *

Allura tossed open the sliding closet door and smiled appreciatively at the familiar sight. With a gentle push, she tugged the gowns to the side to create space for him. He had brought fairly little with him; an extra pair of boots and some nondescript daywear, but she anticipated he would be in his iconic regalia most of the time.

He watched with muted amusement as she bounced excitedly around her room, stretching her muscles from the interplanetary trip. A moment passed and she stalled, turning to look over at him curiously. She shook her head once as his raised brow.

"Just... strange. Still surreal to see you standing there. I'm more used to you trying to break through that," she said, pointing to the large, glass window running the length of a wall of her room.

"Things change," he commented quietly. Her cheeks blushed and she nodded once. A tense silence settled over them before exciting chirping startled Allura.

"If it isn't my most loyal subjects," she exclaimed, spinning away from her husband at the call of the Space Mice. Her cadre of furry friends had lined up on the shelf near her bed and proceeded to dance ecstatically at the sight of her.

Cupping her hands and extending them out, the playful pets leaped into her palms and promptly settled in on her shoulders.

"Mice," Lotor coughed.

Allura giggled in response, flashing a heart-melting smile toward him.

"I'll introduce you – oh, Cheddar," she gasped as the mice quickly disappeared under her mantle of hair at the sight of the king. "It's okay, you can come out," she coaxed. Carefully, the larger of the mice peeked out and regarded the alarming man in the room.

She extended her forearm away from her torso and held it horizontally in front of her.

"Come now, don't be rude. Come say hello," she murmured quietly. More sets of noses peeked out from her hair before the braver of the mice cautiously wandered down her arm and stopped on her wrist to eye the Drule.

"Hm?" She turned her head to the side as one of the shyer ones squeaked in her ear. "Oh, no, Blue Cat is not here," she reassured the tiny animal. With mounting courage, Cheddar's comrades joined their leader in Allura's palms in front of Lotor.

"I, Allura, what do I say to mice?" He gave her a befuddled look, completely caught by surprise by the exchange.

"You could say hello," she chastised him gently.

"They're  _rodents_ ," he said with exasperation. "Why do you even  _have_  them?"

"They're my friends," she sniffed. "They're being very brave right now, you know." She withdrew her palms back to her chest and deposited the companions on her nightstand near her bed. "You all did very well, I'll make sure Pidge sneaks you some extra cheese tonight, okay?"

She laughed with delight and clapped as the mice cheered in excitement before bounding away. Allura sighed softly and turned to look back at her husband. His eyes were still fixed on where the creatures had been.

"You… have mice," he reiterated. "They're actual pets. Not just… pests that roam your castle."

She scowled at him.

"When you live alone in a castle, friends help you keep your sanity," she murmured quietly. His golden gaze snapped to her just as she averted her own. "They kept me company when I was little. I didn't exactly get to leave much; it wasn't safe outside for a young heiress." She brushed past him to move to the door, keeping her eyes lowered. Recovering from her moment of darkened memories, she looked back to him as the light returned to her eyes.

"Are you hungry? Would you like to go meet with the boys? You're welcome to wander any place you like, and I would understand if you weren't terribly keen on sitting down with-"

"I will join you," he cut in with a nod. He had no interest in being away from the shimmering woman.

* * *

The situation was utterly surreal.

_Is this how it feels for her to be on Doom?_  Lotor frowned.

He found himself sitting stiffly beside Allura on a loveseat. She chatted cheerfully with more vibrancy than he had seen from her, gesturing with her hands while retelling a story. A small table separated the king and queen from the other Space Explorers. Lance sat lazily in a chair, his boots kicked up on the table, one ankle crossed over the other. As his polar opposite, Keith stood like a sentinel at the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest. The other two engaged the woman in her narrative, asking questions.

A light lunch had been prepared, consumed and cleared over the course of the last hour and the candid group continued to socialize in the lounge. Periodically, a castle maid would appear and refresh any of the drinks from bringing Lotor another glass of wine to topping off Allura's iced tea.

Lotor's arms draped casually over the back of the small sofa, his right hand just above Allura's shoulder. It was a careful line he walked; he knew demonstrating too much possessiveness over the woman would rile the commander, but he couldn't help the swell of avarice for the Arusian. She was  _his._ It had taken him far too long and far too much effort to take that fact for granted.

He was proud of it.

"No way!" Pidge's gasp startled the king from his trance. He watched as Allura giggled and nodded.

"He absolutely did! I swear it!"

"You're telling me the King of Dellin actually wrote you back... with a marriage counter-proposal? Can people even do that?" Hunk looked shocked.

Allura could only nod again amidst her giggles.

"So let me understand - you wrote to him to explain how Arus would still be trading with them as normal after the whole… thing," Lance trailed off, waving his hand in Lotor's direction for lack of a succinct word to describe the situation.

"And he writes back, I quote, 'I did not realize you were looking for a husband – is there still time to extend my candidacy?' I couldn't believe it," she finished, burying her face in her hands while giggling.

"Did you… respond?" Hunk leaned forward in his chair as Allura dropped her palms back to her lap and shrugged in response.

"What in the six heavens could I say to that?"

She exhaled, leaning back into her seat, seemingly untroubled as her shoulders touched Lotor's arm behind her.

"This is lovely. Things feel almost… normal. …I didn't realize how much I needed this trip," she murmured, smiling at her dear friends. "And soon it will be time to start the party! Are you all ready?"

"Will it be like last year?" Keith's unusually quiet voice caught her attention. She glanced up to where he leaned against the wall and nodded once.

"Yes," she affirmed. "And I intend to try and stay up all night this time," she added.

"You were asleep right after the opening ceremony concluded," Lance teased her. Allura blushed.

"I'll remind you we had been in combat the entirety of the day leading up to it," she snapped back primly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd say I did rather well."

"Hunk managed to stay up all night," Lance continued to tease her. Blue fire sparked behind her eyes.

"In my defense," Hunk began, eyeing Allura carefully. He paused as she pinned him with a glare. A moment of silence rolled by before she prodded him.

"Yes?"

Hunk hesitated before continuing. "…there  _was_  a lot of really, really good food."

Allura's irritated demeanor shattered as she burst out laughing at the man. Once catching her breath, she wiped the tears that blossomed in the corner of her eyes.

"Yes, yes I suppose there was," she conceded with a happy sigh. "Well, that being said, I am going to go attempt to sleep for the rest of the day." As she rose to her feet, Lotor was beside her. "I'll see you all in a few hours." She waved to the boys before making her way back to her room, her husband close behind.

\--

Once the doors had closed behind them, his hand found its way to her hip as she led them down the hallway. She cast him a wary look.

"I'm behaving," he replied coolly. Allura attempted to step away, but his hand remained firm on her side. Her eyes narrowed but she gave no further resistance.

Allura palmed open the door to her room and walked inside, stepping out of her heels as she did so. Lotor dropped regally onto one side of her bed before kicking off his boots and removing his skull belt and sword sheath. She watched him quietly for a moment before shaking her head once.

The queen set aside the sash and crown before walking over to where he lounged lazily.

"Roll over," she all but ordered him. Instead, he folded his hands behind his head and raised an eyebrow at her. She sighed in exasperation. "You're on my side."

"This is the side I sleep on," he said.

"Yes, in your bed. Not in mine, now scoot," she urged, coming to stand in front of him. He regarded her carefully for a moment before his lips split into a fanged smirk.

"Make me," he challenged her. Allura's cheeks flushed pink as he stubbornly continued to recline on her preferred half of the large bed.

"Lotor," she insisted with frustration. She leaned over in an attempt to physically push him and quickly realized her mistake.

His hands grasped at the sides of her waist and before Allura could process the shift in power, she found herself straddling his hips, her palms splayed across his chest.

"We can always share the same side," he implied suggestively, letting his hips buck slightly against her provocatively. The crimson shade her entire body colored hinted that she understood his insinuation.

"Let me up," she whispered. Both alarm and shock laced her breathless voice as she struggled to rise off the man and his fingers only tightened around her.

"Where's the fun in that?" His tone was still playfully casual but he kept a careful eye on her expression. When her expression shifted from alarm to fear, he quickly released her. Allura leapt off of him, curling her limbs into her torso protectively as she landed.

"Brute," she accused, rolling over onto her side and turning her back to him. He continued to lie on his back, watching as her golden hair fanned behind her – between them. He laced his fingers together across his chest and turned his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully.

While Lotor was certain she would be quick to fall asleep, he realized how unlikely it would be for him to get much rest with the memory of her delightful squirming fresh in his mind. He couldn't blame her – he had known the risk he was taking when he pulled her down to him. The uncomfortable situation was entirely of his own design. Admittedly, he required far less rest than Allura did and found himself simply content to lie beside her while she slept.

_How strange,_  he thought.

* * *

Allura couldn't help the warm sensation that flooded her chest and the smile that bloomed across her face. In the Arusian twilight, thousands of people had gathered around the castle. Some had taken front-row seats on blankets near the moat, while more still perched on the hills. The crowd was vast and seemingly endless. The gentle murmuring and chattering of her people quieted as she glided across the stone paving in front of her castle. Her feet did not take the bridge; instead they navigated their way down the embankment toward the moat.

Allura paused at the edge of the water before looking across the landscape. Small boats filled the moat, couples and families alike eager for the opening ceremony to begin the Summer Festival. She wordlessly raised her eyes to the sky and watched as the fiery hues shifted to navy and violet. Across the heavens, the first of many stars appeared.

"It's time," she murmured.

The Voltron Force, Lotor and her guardians were sequestered in a small area near the castle wall beside the moat. As Allura turned to face them, Coran stepped forward. Sheltered in his arms was an unusual and ancient-looking relic. A small lantern, old, worn and well-used, held a flickering flame. It looked common at best with nothing particularly extraordinary about it. The most expensive aspect was that at one point, the lamp appeared to have been made of silver, but it was tarnished in a way that did not come from neglect, but from age. A custom-built dome curved around the metal piece, designed with ducts specifically to protect it from gusts of wind, while still allowing airflow to the small flame.

Allura reached forward and pulled the ornament to her chest, cradling it in both her arms. Lotor tossed Lance a curious look when the chipper pilot clapped in giddiness.

"You're in for a treat," he murmured to the Drule before fixing his gaze on Allura's back as she turned away from the group. The reverence with which she carried the lamp startled her new husband. Her pace was slow, her steps precise. She paused at the edge of the moat.

"What-" Lotor leaned forward as the woman took another step forward and miraculously seemed to stand on top of the water. Small ripples fanned out from her feet and the king's sharp eyes quickly saw what he had missed before: built just beneath the surface of the water was an entire walkway of a perfectly clear material. Glass or plastic, he couldn't be certain without touching it, but it gave the illusion that Allura walked on the water itself.

The hem of her pink and white gown fanned out regally around her, floating on the surface. With each practiced step, with each darkening second, Allura carried the precious lantern to the center of the moat where a nondescript stone platform rose from the water. As she moved across the glassy surface, a dim light beneath the water began to glow, as if illuminating the path she took. She came to a stop near the center of the body of water and looked out at everyone in boats, on the shore and in the distance. The theatrics of the radiant display were simple, but stunning.

Cast in the dying twilight and illuminated by lights obscured by rippling water, the fierce queen of a proud planet began to speak, all while clutching a strikingly otherwise unimportant lamp to her chest with a reverence to rival a priest.

"My friends," she began earnestly. "Thank you all for coming tonight. This night marks one of our most cherished traditions and sacred holidays. We are reminded that even when the night is darkest, there will always come a dawn. We realize that shadows cannot exist without light and there will always burn a fire in our hearts."

Lotor glanced over his shoulder as the commander eased himself onto the ground, sitting cross-legged, as he watched Allura closely. Despite his proximity to his most lethal adversary, Keith couldn't help but smile warmly at Allura's brilliance. Her gentleness was infectious.

"Fire is often considered to be fleeting - easily extinguished. It can be a violent consumption of fuel, destruction, and then darkness again. However. Not all fires burn out," she explained. Her arms extended and she held the aged-hewn lantern before her.

"This is the Everflame, one of Arus' most precious relics. Like last year, and the years before that, I will tell you its story. It is _worthy_ of being remembered," she said, her voice carrying across the water without the aid of a microphone or any amplification. The reverence with which she said the word 'worthy' weighted the tale to be told.

Despite hearing the story every year, the citizens waited with bated breath to hear it again. Allura set the lantern on a small pedestal on the central platform and folded her hands in front of it.

"The Everflame burns in the catacombs. When not being used during ceremonies, it is affixed to a near-endless supply of oil and serves as a reminder that even when those we love leave this realm, they are still tied to us. A spark of them still burns within us, and we are forever connected to everyone we've ever touched." She paused, catching her breath as a memory of her father rolled through her.

"Four centuries ago," she continued. "Arus found itself embroiled in conflict. Civil war beat across our land as our people struggled to find unity. We warred. We fought. We slayed. We  _feared._  One day, our closest ally at the time, the planet Rylla, suffered a cataclysmic event. A massive asteroid breached their atmosphere and slammed into their surface. Smoke, dust and fire rained down from their skies, nearly extinguishing all life. Despite our own, internal conflict, we rallied around our closest friend and neighbor. Every Arusian had something to lose – each of us had a friend on that planet. We knew someone - we had a brother, a mother or a son who lived there. We all lost something when tragedy struck.

"For the first time after years of violence, we came together – not for ourselves, but for  _them_. To help someone else. Many perished in Rylla's disaster, but many still were saved. We were there. We helped. We evacuated them and provided support, food, shelter until the survivors could sort out what they needed to do next. As you all know, they are a much smaller, but still-thriving race. They have moved to an orbital colony in the next quadrant over and have thrown themselves into early detection research - their goal has been to prevent that from ever happening to another planet. Through the centuries, they have evolved, as have we, but we have maintained a close camaraderie with them," she said quietly, reaching forward to touch the dome on the lantern.

"The ruler of Rylla was so grateful for Arus' help that a year later he presented the king of Arus with a gift of gratitude and an emblem of peace. He brought this lantern. The words he spoke to King Astraus were 'may peace forever shine from your skies.' We, as a people, as a planet, came together in one of the most decisive, destructive and critical times in our history to help our friends. We put aside our own grievances to answer to a higher calling. In an effort to salvage what we could for a dying friend, we trusted each other again. We worked together. After the fall of Rylla, we never went back. We stayed together, we stayed strong – we stayed _unified_. We began to work out our problems with words, not violence. And here we all are today." She stretched her arms out to her side, gesturing to the large crowd that had gathered on her shoreline.

"This lantern was a gift to an ancient king from an ancient race, but the message is unerringly timeless. It represents the very soul of Arus - the fire that burns there, the promise of compassion, of peace and loyalty. It has _never_ been extinguished," she finished with a calm, sturdy certainty.

“I will now use this ancient fire to continue to ignite the future for us," she said, peeling the dome off the top. As fresh air rushed the fire, it grew substantially in size, casting the monarch in a warm hue. With due reverence, she took a small, paper lantern and gently lit it from the Everflame. She held the base while the delicate parachute filled with hot air. As it began to lift from her palms, she released it, the tiny light floating higher in the sky.

“To your marks!" Allura's voice echoed across the moat and archers appeared, standing on a nearby ledge of the castle lowered their bows at the rising balloon.

"Spread the Everflame!"

Arrows barbed not with steel, but wicks, were unleashed from taut bowstrings and crossed paths with the fiery lantern. After igniting, they continued on, striking other targets. Before long, carefully placed lamps, pyres and fireworks were kindled in a carefully choreographed display of light. The sky itself lit up bright as the dawn and showers of sparks rained down.

"King Lotor, would you care to join me?" She glanced coyly over her shoulder at the startled Drule. With wary deference, he carefully made his way toward the shimmering woman on the lake. He watched through narrowed eyes as she took a second, pristine lamp and lit it from the dusty relic. The silver casing on the second was immaculate and shimmered in all the firelight. Both lanterns flickered on the pedestal before her as she carefully replaced the covering over the first one.

"It has become a custom among our people that, when we strike an accord of peace, we share the fire that brought us here, in hopes that a little piece of our love can help warm another," she explained. Her voice was softer, but it still carried a formal lilt to the tone as she presented the new lantern to him. "On behalf of all Arus, all the kings and queens that came before me, I say – with admittedly astonishing surprise – that it is my pleasure to present a piece of the Everflame to the Drule Empire."

Her words were nearly lost in the thundering of the fireworks overhead, but the look in her eyes as she stared up into his in the orange glow around them was unmistakable.

He tore his gaze from her to glance down to the remarkable object before him. With a hesitant movement, he gingerly took the shimmering light into his palms. The magnitude of the offering made the metal feel heavier in his grasp than it should have, and with a near-painful slowness, he pulled the peace offering to his chest slowly, careful of the flame.

Satisfied that he had it in his grip, she turned and waved to her people cheering in the firelight.

"Let the Festival begin!"

Gathering her own artifact to her chest, she smiled up at the still-stunned king and led the way off the crystal-clear bridge. He followed numbly behind her, occasionally glancing down to the mesmerizing lamp in his palms.  His gait was slower than usual, concerned the natural air current around his stride might extinguish the flame he carried.

"Is the story true?" He murmured after they stepped on solid land and he came to stand beside her. Allura fixed her gaze on him and shrugged.

"As far as I know. It's the story that has been handed down through the royal family. There's no written account, and I certainly wasn't there at the First Telling," she added with a smile.

"Princess," Coran spoke coming to her side.

"Oh, thank you," she murmured as he took the Everflame from her hands to return it to the catacombs for safe keeping. She turned her attention back to Lotor.

"Would you like to wander the Festival with me? There's all sorts of activities. Games, performers…" she trailed off, gesturing across the moat where people and tents were set up.

"It would be my pleasure," he murmured, recovering himself. "I would like to place this inside where it will be safe," he added before turning to make his way back to the castle.

Allura smiled after the man, a strange blush on her cheeks. The idea of presenting a piece of the flame to him had been only an impulsive thought as she had been preparing for the opening ceremony. She had had little time to contemplate how well-received it would be, but it had  _felt_  right, and Allura had never been one to second-guess her own instincts.

Her lips pursed together in a slight pout, wishing she could read the cryptic man better. He flashed from stoic and cold to hot-tempered and angry seemingly without warning. Occasionally, and with even  _less_  predictability, he had seemed to display acts of affection – or so she thought. His temperament was far from obvious, and his intentions often felt veiled.

_Will I ever understand you,_  she thought almost sadly.

* * *

The lingering doubt had washed from her mind over the course of the next four hours. The couple had – awkwardly at first – wandering through the festival, eyeing the tents, games and entertainment. Allura could barely walk twenty paces before another citizen rushed up to her to greet her.

Lotor found himself constantly amazed by how many names she knew, even asking about spouses and children.  _She knows them all_ , he thought with bewilderment. He would be hard-pressed to even identify one of his own non-noble citizens by name.

They had watched the sword swallowers with rapt attention – and very diverse reactions. Lotor had been fascinated and excited by the dangerous sport while the gentlewoman at his side clutched her hands to her mouth in avid worry. The king had laughed triumphantly and clapped when the show ended; Allura only breathed a weak sigh of relief.

As the night waxed on, the two had tired of the more densely populated areas of the festival and Allura had guided them to a more secluded part. Talking had been near-impossible with all the noise around them in the heart of the celebration. As they sat on a distant hill, side-by-side in the shadow of a tree cast by moonlight, Allura glanced to him.

Even shrouded in darkness, the woman embodied the sun itself. In the distance, the constant stream of fireworks continued to light up the sky and flickering lights shimmered from the valley below as the festivities continued in full force. Only the soft noises of the explosions could be heard.

"Everflame," he murmured, watching her carefully. The young queen only shrugged, turning her eyes away from him and glancing back to the lights in the sky.

"It is yours to do with what you see fit. I don't expect any kind of ceremony or reverence or…" She trailed off as he touched her chin, turning her gaze back to him. She blinked up at the strange, dark man looming over her in the darkness.

"Thank you," he said softly after a moment. It was not a phrase she had heard him speak before, and her wide eyes betrayed that sentiment. He laughed at her darkly, the menacing chuckle echoing off the trees. Allura shivered, suddenly reminded of how isolated she had allowed them to become. She averted her eyes once more.

"I'm glad you came tonight," she changed the subject quickly. "This is an important holiday for me and I… I find myself pleased I was able to share it with you. I'm not sure I could explain why, but, it feels…  _good._ " She reached up and touched her chest lightly, still processing the strange emotions in her body. "I think… well, I don't always think my words make sense. Perhaps I was hoping for another way to explain how I feel," she hedged with a shrug.

She reclined comfortably into the soft grass and folded her hands behind her head.

"Fascinating," he murmured softly. She glanced over to him curiously just as he leaned toward her. Allura flinched away on instinct when his strong frame hovered over hers.

"What are you doing," she whispered, watching him with open wariness.

"Nothing that you don't already desire," he replied after a moment. His left arm propped himself up bodily off the woman, leaving his right hand free to touch her cheek with a reverent gentleness.

She snorted in frustration at his touch and turned her head to the side.

"We can't keep on like this," he insisted, touching her jaw and turning her head to look back at him. Her fathomless blue eyes locked on his as a brilliant, azure firework lit up the sky overhead and cast an ethereal glow to her depths.

"And how do you propose I trust you? I tried that, and I was  _wrong_ ," she whispered as his thumb traced over her bottom lip.

"You weren't wrong," he said quietly after a moment.

"But I was," she insisted. "I thought I actually wanted something, but my desire was a fabrication by your hands."

"But what if it wasn't?" His own golden eyes glinted carefully as she struggled to contemplate the reality he described.

"How can I know the difference when you try and force what you want on everyone around you? How can I know the difference between your will and my choice when you blur those boundaries?"

A thoughtful silence settled over them. As seconds ticked into minutes, Lotor shifted his weight slightly. The queen braced when his thighs settled on the opposite sides of her so he effectively loomed above her. He watched with both satisfaction and frustration when her jaw tensed; she was bracing for battle. He stroked the taught bone once before brushing the back of his hand deftly across the softness of her throat.

"And what about now?" His question was soft in volume but rough as he restrained himself.

"What about now?" Allura whispered the question back to him.

"Am I fabricating anything now?"

The queen stilled and glanced around the darkness protecting them. Fiery displays lit up the sky, but they were utterly alone, nestled into the lush hillside.  _It's not like he planted an aphrodisiac nearby this time,_  her mind reasoned. Allura glanced up to him and blushed.

"I suppose not," she conceded.

"You presented a priceless gift today," he murmured softly, lowing his lips to brush at her earlobe. Allura flushed hot at the gentle touch. His palm traced gently over her hip while he spoke.

"And so you want another," she glared up at him warily. She sucked in her breath suddenly when his own, warm exhale breezed across her throat before he planted a pointedly possessive kiss over her pulse point.

"No." His voice sounded like gravel. He shifted his weight to his thighs as he held himself just over her slim frame. Both his palms grasped gently at her waist, feather-light brushes flickering over her frame from her ribcage to her hips. She flushed warmer under his touch; the familiar quiver of need defied her logic to keep him at arm's length. His next sentence detonated a flood of heat through her blood and crippled her defenses.

"I want to return the favor."


	13. Possession

Bathed in the first brush of dawn's light, Allura scurried back across the landscape, Lotor not far behind her. The revelries had subsided, most of the party-goers had called it for the night. A few of the more dedicated celebrating Arusians lay curled on their sides, asleep on the ground, taken by a night of drunken festivities.

"Shh," she hushed the king following right behind her as she crept into the castle. The main gate closed quietly behind them. Silent halls echoed their faint footfalls. Allura guided their way through the main foyer, heading toward the corridor that led back to her bedchambers.

"Allura." A voice caught her attention and she froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She swallowed and sighed, nodding to Lotor to continue on. With reticence, she turned and looked over her shoulder.

Keith was leaning against the doorframe to the parlor, watching her intently. His eyes skimmed over her form from her tangled hair to her rumpled gown.

"A word, please?" He gestured to the empty meeting room. She cut Lotor's growl off with a shake of her head, urging him to go on ahead of her. As she turned and made her way toward her commander, Lotor hesitated before reluctantly acquiescing, leaving the two alone. Once satisfied she was joining him, Keith peeled off the doorframe and walked into the room.

Allura followed quietly, pausing to shut the door behind her. She stood almost shamefully in the entry area as Keith paced a restless circle around her.

"Keith," she began, unable to handle the silence and the heavy, unspoken disapproval radiating from the man.

"I just have one question," he said quietly, pausing behind her. Allura's skin flushed hot with embarrassment when she felt him zip up the back of her dress. She buried her face in her palms in mortification.

The light touch of his palm on her elbow startled her. She glanced up as he guided her to one of the chairs. Defeated, she sat down in a swift motion. After a few paces Keith eased himself into a matching lounge across from her. He propped his elbows up on his knees and promptly buried his face in his hands.

After tiredly rubbing his face for a moment before letting his hands fall away, he glanced to her. Allura recognized his fatigue - he had likely been up all night awaiting her return.

"I just need to know, and please, for the blessed stars in the sky tell me the truth, we can figure it out if needed, I won't react impulsively," he paused as he begged. Allura's throat tightened.

"Yes?" Her question was a raspy whisper while her heart hammered so loudly in her chest, she was certain her ribs would shatter. Defeated, Keith exhaled again and laid all the cards on the table with a swift, blunt question.

"Did he force himself?"

Allura blinked as air rushed back into her lungs.

"Wh... what?" She felt genuine surprise flood her veins at the unexpected question.

"If he did, I won't kill him - not right away - but we'll need to start devising a strategy to extract you from this situation," he launched into a battle plan, speculating on tactics to break Allura's vows to the Drule. Allura smiled warmly across the cozy room at the man and his unfettered concern for her wellbeing.

"No, Keith, he didn't. Everything that has come to me in this... adventure," she used the word generously, "...has been of my own design and desire."

"He hasn't harmed you, or... forced... anything?" Keith studied her face. Allura blushed, she knew he was tracing the contours of the tangles in her hair.

"No, actually - that... that has surprised me, too," she murmured honestly. "He's grown cross a few times, as his temper is prone to do, but he's never struck me or tried to coerce anything physical. I..." she paused as a thought hit her.

"Allura?"

"I... I think I've slapped him more than he's touched me with any kind of aggression. ...and... I'm ashamed of that truth," she blushed at the realization. "...in this case, I believe myself to be the violent one."

Keith snorted in response.

"Hardly possible, I'm sure he deserved it," he drawled.

"Well, I  _was_  frightened, but it really is no excuse to hurt someone. At any rate, no. He's done nothing like that to me," she emphasized. Relief washed over the commander and he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm... I can't say I'm glad about the situation, but... I'm comforted that you're well in all of it so far. If he ever crosses a line, I swear it. I  _will_  protect you."

Allura blushed brightly at the gentle protectiveness from Keith.

"That all being said, I think it's time for me to get some sleep," he said as he rose from his chair. "You might want to get to your room. Nanny and Coran went to bed early in the evening. They might be up soon," he warned.

Allura's eyes widened and she leaped to her feet.

"Thank you so much for all your support," she whispered, leaning in and giving the man a hug. He gently returned the gesture before stepping back. Allura smiled shyly and left the parlor, quickly scanning the hallway for signs of her nursemaid. Finding the corridor empty, she broke into a jog toward her chambers.

* * *

Lotor was pacing in a slow circle in the center of the room when the door opened. He froze and looked over to the disheveled woman.

Allura noted that his hair was damp down his back and he smelled not of the earth and dirt, but of the crisp freshness that came with a shower.

"What did he want," he finally asked, his rigid stance betraying his concern. Allura smiled tiredly.

"Nothing too important," she explained. "I would like to shower though, I'll return." She disappeared into the bathroom to follow his lead and purge the dirt and sweat from her body. Allura glanced over her shoulder in time to see the man's eyes narrow dangerously but he said nothing. The queen sighed before stripping down once safe in the bath before committing her body to the hot water.

* * *

Allura exhaled, gathering her nerves as she pushed open the door. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, the unmistakable look of insatiable desire glinted in Lotor's eyes. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, dressed in black silk pants. His gaze locked on her as she made her way to her wardrobe.

"I want to know what he said," Lotor commented quietly, clearly still homing in on the prior conversation. He watched with languid fascination as she struggled to pull clean undergarments up over her hips while still holding the towel around herself. With her back to him, Allura decided there was no better time than to recount the conversation. Nervously removing the towel, she quickly pulled on her pink nightgown while speaking. While modesty demanded she cover herself, she recalled with an odd reality that he  _was_  her husband.

"He... he wanted to check on me," she hedged finally.

"How so." His voice was low and commanding, quick to respond to her reluctant answers.

Allura paused and pulled the damp hair out from the back of her gown. Wordlessly, she sat down at her vanity and began to gently comb out her hair.

"He asked if you had... if… you had… had forced yourself on me," she stammered. When he said nothing at first, Allura's eyes nervously glanced to him in the mirror. His face was cold and impassive. After what felt like a century, he finally spoke again, his voice still cold and smooth like steel.

"And what did you tell him?"

She set the brush down and turned in the chair to look at him.

"The truth. I told him that everything that has happened has... has been my choice," she finished. He watched her, his expression veiled still. He followed her with his gaze as she rose suddenly and glided to the large window in her room. Touching a palm screen near it, she dialed the transparency down. The clear glass suddenly darkened with a tint, tossing the room into lightlessness. The only dawn coming through was no brighter than moonlight, effectively simulating night for the day sleepers.

"I have never forced anything upon a female," he said at last. When Allura turned and looked at him, she wore her surprise openly on her face. He chuckled darkly. "Don't look so shocked," he murmured. Curious, she glided closer, coming to sit on the side of the bed opposite him.

"I... I just thought with... with the girls, you know..."

"Oh I assure you, every woman I've had has been willing," he promised her. She blushed brightly, knowing that included her. She snuggled under the blankets, watching the ceiling as the mattress shifted with her husband's weight.

"I only had a few that interested me, anyway," he added, settling onto his back next to her. "You seem surprised by this," he added, glancing to her. She just shrugged in response.

"You haven't ever struck me as the type to take the word 'no' with much grace," she said, watching him with curiosity. With a sensuality that she wasn't aware she possessed, she leisurely turned onto her side to study him openly.

"Allura," he began, his eyes honed on her. "I am far, far too proud of my skills to ever stoop to  _forcing_  a woman to my bed. That being said, no woman has ever told me no, either."

"I did," she muttered.

"Not for forever," he grinned at her lethally. "Admittedly, it took longer than I would have liked, but all good things are worth waiting for," he purred.

Allura's skin turned pink.

"Well, I suppose that makes more sense, knowing your pride had something to do with that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Allura tossed him a playful smile as she shrugged.

"Your pride is grand enough to fell empires," she teased. "I don't think I've ever met anyone with a larger ego than yours."

Before he could respond to her quip, she surprised him by curling closer against his chest. He froze, startled by the shift in her demeanor. Allura had never presented an affectionate side toward him, and certainly not ever taken the first step in their waltz. Hesitantly, he unfolded his arms from behind his head and eased them around her body, pulling her close. The exhausted queen was quick to fall asleep, a surprised Lotor not far behind her.

* * *

"You're welcome to leave if you're so inclined," Allura frowned at the man across the room from her in the study. She sat daintily at a large desk, deftly scribing another round of letters. Lotor let his weight drop into a nearby chair as he crossed one boot over his knee. He watched with fascination as she warmed the stick of wax in her hand, letting the red liquid drip onto the back of the envelope. Once enough had gathered, she firmly pressed the Castle of Lions crest against the envelope, sealing the letter formally. Deft fingers set it aside to cool.

"Then come with me," he instructed. Allura set the wax stick down and turned her frustrated gaze on him.

"We've been here barely a day," she gestured to the sun outside the study window. Their nap had been brief – just enough to recuperate from staying awake all night, but not long enough as to completely invert their sleeping schedule. "Why are you so anxious to return to Doom?"

"I do not like to be away from my home," he said firmly.

"Neither do I," she uttered in dry, pointed response, mirroring his firmness. With a glare, she glanced back to the burning candle in front of her.

"Allura," he persisted, leaning forward in his chair.

"If you want to go back, that's fine, Lotor. I'm going to be here for a bit longer," she reiterated.

"Doom is safer," he insisted.

"For you, perhaps," she murmured quietly, her eyes riveted on the crimson droplets falling to the parchment. "I fully trust the people under my domain to respect the orders I have given. No one here will be trying to strangle you unless you give them a reason to," she added, pressing the seal into the puddle. Her eyes snapped up to his, the candlelight reflecting off their oceanic depths.

Unable to stay cross, Allura's face softened.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "That was too far. I just don't understand why you're so insistent."

"I have matters to attend to," he replied stiffly.

"Such as?"

"Nothing that would interest you."

Allura sat back and regarded the confounding man before her. He was an utter dichotomy in every sense of the word. As soon as the young queen felt like she was getting a handle on understanding the machinations of his mind, he threw her a curveball.

Fierce and bloody on the battlefield, he had demonstrated a far less rugged side in their bedroom. Intent on dragging her into the political minefield of his Empire, he was quick to shut her out of certain matters.

She frowned.

She set the letter aside to cool and drew a third in front of her, wordlessly looking back to sealing her work.

"You never know, it might interest me," she murmured.

"It wouldn't."

She glanced up and glared at him, irritated by his arrogant attempt to hold control over her.

"You sound so certain of that."

"Allura, when it comes to you, there is very little I'm certain about. This is the rare oddity."

"Now I'm just plain curious," she teased, a playful light illuminating in her eyes. He only chuckled evilly in response, shaking his head once.

"It can wait a day," he bartered.

"How about we leave tonight, then?" Allura truly tried to meet the man halfway.

"That will suffice." Allura's gaze lingered on him a moment longer, her lips curling into an amused smile before she glanced down to melt more wax.

"You are truly an enigma," she murmured, more to herself.

"I could say the same thing about you." Allura only blushed in response, biting down on her bottom lip as she pressed the seal into the wax.

* * *

The queen glanced around the empty hallway of Castle Doom. They had only been back a couple hours before her husband had disappeared off the radar completely. Allura found herself stalking the halls of the castle with an authority she never believed she would possess.

Her pink and gold gown trailed behind her, the blue stole standing out starkly against the cheerful garments, her crown shimmering in the faint light of the dreary corridor. Her heels hit the stone floor with confidence and her strides echoed around her.

She had stopped the occasional guardsman to question King Lotor's whereabouts, but had received few answers. Allura pouted, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced around her. An eerie sense of  _déjà vu_  enveloped her when her eyes noticed something in the wall. The steel paneling had a concave divot in its otherwise flat structure. Her heart skipped a beat as the ghostly memory of Zarkon's hand around her throat surfaced.

Her skin flushed with panic and her heart raced. Allura stumbled back from the spot where she very nearly died, struggling to catch her breath.

"My Queen, are you well?"

She glanced over abruptly to see a concerned guardsman watching her. The unfamiliar face helped quell the bubbling panic rising in her and she nodded her head once.

"Yes, thank you, I just… I just had a moment, it is no matter. Could… could you help me with something?" Allura asked the question as a thought occurred to her.

"Of course My Queen, what can I do?"

She hesitated.

"I'd like to find the witch Haggar. Can you help me?"  _Stars know I can't seem to find my husband. Maybe she'll have an answer._

"Of course. I can't be certain she's there at this very moment, but she is often in her lair. I can show you where that is, if you'd like."

"Yes, please."  _Anywhere but here._ She tossed the warped metal one last, wary look before following the guard.

* * *

"To what do I owe the honor, my dear?" The crone cackled as Allura stepped into the room carefully. Her blue eyes scanned the strange environment, taking in all the specimen jars, bubbling cauldrons and magical relics strewn about. Her hands remained folded in front of her, careful not to touch anything.

"I…" Allura trailed off, stunned as she saw what appeared to be a severed head floating in a jar.

"That is Sir Krugil," Haggar muttered, catching her gaze.

"What did he do," she whispered, horrified by the preserved decapitation. The witch tilted her head curiously at the queen before responding.

"He was a war hero," she explained. "He died honorably on the battlefield, and wanted to be saved until he could be revived as an immortal. He's suspended in liquid magic, my dear. Unconscious, but very much still alive until the time comes we can regenerate his body." She glided toward the vibrant woman's side curiously. "Did you think he was beheaded as a punishment?"

Allura's eyes snapped to Haggar's, and her cheeks colored with shame.

"…I did, yes," she admitted after a moment. "…I'm sorry."

"Don't be, we are certainly prone to doing that, as well. Where do you think the Pit of Skulls came from?" The old woman laughed darkly at Allura's paled expression. "There, there," she comforted, reaching up to touch the queen on the shoulder. "What can this old woman do for you?"

"I… …" She trailed off, frowning. "Do you know where Lotor is?"

"I do," she said. The queen's eyes widened and she clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Oh, that's wonderful! I've been looking for him all day. Where is he?"

Haggar's head tilted silently and Allura got the impression the witch was, at the very least, smirking at her if not outright smiling beneath the cowl.

"I can't tell you that, I'm afraid."

"Whyever not? What in the world is that man doing that he thinks I shouldn't know about?" Allura glared at the older Drule. Haggar only shrugged once.

"Again, I can't say. I can only confirm that he's an idiot."

Allura's fury evaporated in a tidal wave of confusion at the honest assessment from the woman.

"What did you say, Haggar?"

"I said he's an idiot. Don't tell me that's news to you, sweetie," she murmured coyly.

"I… I didn't know… I thought I was the only one…"

"Who had the fortitude to call him that to his face?" Haggar leaned in and elbowed Allura conspiratorially. "Us girls need to stick together when it comes to him." The queen reeled back, blindsided by the odd camaraderie from the old woman. The same entity who had cooked up the designs to bring destruction against her now laughed quietly with her at the expense of her new husband.

_No one is truly a monster. Everyone just has their own lens. Never stop seeing that._

She gasped as a whisper of a memory from her childhood floated to the surface.

"What is it, dear?"

"I… I just remembered something my father had said to me when I was very little. I had forgotten it."

"Ah, memory can be fickle like that. Come, I'll show you around," she began before turning away and leading the way around the dark laboratory. Allura cast one, last wary look to Sir Krugil before following behind the old woman as she pointed out various experiments, potion stations or specimens. She cackled softly to herself as Allura did exactly as she predicted – the woman planted herself nose-to-glass in front of the Robeast Enhancement Chamber. Her palms splayed against the protective barrier.

"So. _This_ is where it all happens," she murmured, looking up at the ray beams in the ceiling that spurred the growth in the beasts.

"It is," the witch admitted, hovering behind the queen. "Do you have any questions?" She glided over to meet her at the glass, eyeing the mechanical masterpiece that created the weapons.

" _Why_ ," she whispered, torn by the thought of destruction to her planet. Haggar only shrugged in response.

"Why Voltron?"

Allura's frosty gaze snapped to the Drule woman at the comment.

"To preserve our way of life, to protect that which our people need, of course!"

"That's your answer, then," Haggar replied, nodding to the robeast chamber. At Allura's blank, stunned expression, she continued. "Do you really think Planet Doom has the means to sustain itself? Can we grow the food we need, harness the energy to fuel our engines or mine the metals required for life?"

When Allura remained in a stuck, astonished silence, Haggar floated away from her, untroubled by the lack of an answer.

"I…"

"The machine is also used to make other things larger, as well. When we do find a mineral or a plant that we can use, we'll reproduce it here to create more of it," she explained. Haggar looked over at the gentle woman. Allura's gaze was not on the robeast chamber, but it had fixated on something across the room.

"What is that," she asked, peeling off the glass and moving around the tables of experiments and tombs, gliding deftly toward a cauldron that pulsed with pink energy.

"It is nothing, do not touch that, Your Highness," Haggar's voice tightened as the queen drew closer to the brewing station.

"Is… is it making noise?" Allura stopped in front of it. She kept her hands demurely folded in front of her, but her skin reflected the eerie, pink hue.

"…can you hear something?" The crone sidled up to Allura to peer around her at her own work, curiosity aroused by the queen's words. "What do you hear, dear?"

Allura only stared at the concoction warily.

"…my name. Why do I hear my name? Why is it calling to me?"

"Because I'm too good at what I do," she muttered softly under her breath. "Just leave it be, don't touch it." The witch answered, raising her voice with the last sentence. Allura glanced to the woman before looking back to the cauldron. Reverently, she reached out, her hand extending toward the mixture.

Haggar's gnarled, claw-like hand grasped the queen's wrist firmly, shattering her trance-like state. Allura gasped in alarm.

"I'm sorry! I don't know why, I know you said not to, but I wasn't thinking, and I-"

"Be still," Haggar admonished the soft woman gently. "Let's move away from it now." She guided the queen from the brewing area as Allura tossed one look back toward the fuchsia liquid. "Pay it no mind, it is nothing of consequence. Now. Any other questions?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I don't know why I felt compelled to do that."

"Your idiot husband will be looking for you soon," she murmured, changing the subject. Allura's ashen face colored as she giggled.

"Very well," she smiled. "Thank you for entertaining me, Haggar." The golden queen flashed the old witch a genuine smile before taking her leave of the laboratory.

"Ah, I haven't felt this young in ages," the witch muttered pleasantly in her wake.

* * *

Allura stood in front of the long mirror, brushing out her hair. Fresh from a shower, she stood barefoot in their bedchamber, a towel wrapped around her chest under her arms. Every minute or so, her eyes would flash to the door, expecting the king to come through. He'd left her side once they had arrived back on his homeworld, and she grew more frustrated as the hours waned on. After leaving Haggar's lair, Allura had still been unable to locate the man and had simply retired to their bedchamber.

_Did you want his company? Wouldn't it better suit you to be left alone?_

She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. The honest answer to that question eluded her. Logically, she should rejoice in the reprieve from his infuriatingly dominating presence. And yet…

Allura shook her head once and pulled open the dresser. After quickly tugging on some modest undergarments, she reached for a nightgown and paused.  _Why should he get all the pants?_  She closed the wardrobe and pulled open one of the drawers on his side and promptly dug for a pair of pants. After locating a pair of steel-colored hipwear, she began searching for a shirt.

_Allura._

She froze.

"What," she whispered, looking around the room. The bedchamber remained empty, even as whispers of her name touched at her ears. "Who's there?"

_Allura…_

She looked over her shoulder, her wide eyes staring down at the neatly folded shirts beneath her palms.

"Is… what? Is it coming from…?" The queen quickly started shifting the piles of clothes around digging after the source of the sound. She froze, looking at the bottom of the drawer. With trembling hands, she withdrew a single, glass vial glowing with fluorescent pink liquid. Her eyes widened as it whispered her name again, her memory flashing briefly back to Haggar.

"It's here…" A warning siren flared in her mind, nurtured by the admonition that the witch had given her. Despite her best logic, Allura couldn't bring herself to set the piece of glass down. It sung to her in a way she couldn't describe.

_Alluuuuura..._

Before she could stop herself, trembling hands uncorked the vial and the scent of roses sweeter than anything she had ever experienced coated her senses. She exhaled in bliss, savoring the delightful scent. The queen wouldn't have been able to describe a more perfect, a more articulated vision had she been asked. While she had never experienced it before that moment, she was absolutely certain there was nothing more ideological. Memories of warnings faded in a haze of utter happiness as her fingertips brushed over the glass with reverence.

_Taste me._


	14. Paroxysm

Lotor burst through the doors to his bedchambers, exhausted. He tossed a quick glance Allura's way as he made his way to the bath. She lay curled beneath the sheets quietly. His gaze didn't linger long enough to check if she were awake as he pushed through the second doorway. Starting the shower, he stripped down and stepped under the hot water, eager for the sweat and dirt to wash of his body.

He allowed the warm water to beat down on his head, cleansing his hair and body while filling the room with steam. He had no desire to explain to Allura where he had been and wanted to purify his body from the filth that coated him.

_Please, just be honest._

Even her voice echoed in his mind. He cursed.

"Not this one, my sweet."

_Even if it's something we won't ever agree on._

He scowled, digging his fingers into his hair to loosen the grime. Droplets ran down the contours of his muscles, dripping to the tile floor as he cleaned himself. Lotor exhaled, dropping his arms to his side, standing beneath the waterfall from the showerhead.

Seconds dragged into minutes, and minutes became eternity as the water scalded his skin and burned his mind. With little else left to do in the shower, he turned the water off, toweled off and secured the soft fabric around his waist. He braced for Allura's wrath as he pulled open the door.

"Unholy demons below!"

Lotor cursed loudly, nearly dropping his towel at the sight before him.

Allura sat demurely in the center of their bed, dressed simply in his royal tunic. Her bare legs curled around her as she watched him playfully, chewing on her bottom lip with a playfulness he had never witnessed before.

"How was the shower?" Her voice practically purred across the air toward him.

"What fresh hell," he muttered, staring bewildered at the sensual minx. With an unholy grace, she rose to her feet and glided across the floor to him. His tunic was large on her, but even with its length it barely covered her torso and left fairly little to the imagination. Her hand brushed away some of his damp hair as she stared up into his eyes.

"I thought wearing just the royal drape might have been... insensitive," she murmured, tugging the red cape off her shoulders and setting it aside.

Lotor swallowed. Her fingers began undoing the buttons down the front of the vestment, her eyes never leaving his.

"...Allura, are you well?" He reached toward her, intending to check for a fever. His outstretched palm stretched for her temple, but Allura caught it and drew it down to her ribcage instead.

"I feel...  _alive,_ " she whispered the last word as if it were a secret.

"What…" He stared, completely stunned. Lotor attempted to pull his hand away to touch her face once more, but she firmly pressed his palm into her chest and arched her back toward him.

"Come to bed, Husband…"

"Allura," he choked on her name as her other hand deftly removed the towel from his waist. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she pouted at him playfully, her hand tracing along his abdomen, letting her fingertips explore the contours of his muscles. He sucked in his breath sharply before grasping her wrist. She giggled.

"Enough," he commanded. Allura just wiggled against him playfully in response. She tugged on her trapped hand but his fingers only tightened around her.

"We can play that way, too. Come," she said again, tugging in her wrist in his manacle of a grip, attempting to coax him to the bed. He growled softly in frustration, snapping his other palm from her breast and restraining her other hand. She stood before him, hands withheld from his body as his tunic draped over her torso and slid off one of her shoulders, a deep V-neck plunging past her breasts from open buttons.

"Well this isn't much fun for me," she murmured as he held her at arm's length. His eyes narrowed and in a near-violent move, he shoved her back-first onto the bed, pinning her down. She mewed in excitement, further arousing his suspicions. She wiggled her hips against his naked form in a tantalizing display.

"Who are you," he thundered. She blinked in surprise and her mirth quelled temporarily as she contemplated his question, yet the playful light never left her eyes.

"Who would you like me to be tonight?"

"Enough, wench. _Where is Allura_?" He released her wrists leaped away.  He stormed across the room, promptly putting his pants on before glaring at the rather explicit display before him. The strange blonde on the bed only pouted, sitting up with an ethereal grace. She watched him dress himself with a sensuality that was foreign to the woman he knew. She raised her gaze from his hips to his eyes.

"You're not having any fun," she commented openly on his state of arousal – or lack thereof.

"I will give you one last chance before I have you killed," he warned dangerously. "Where is Allura? If you've harmed her in any way," he drew his lazon sword, the light glinting off the contours of his bare chest.

Her eyes widened in shock as he stalked toward her on the bed.

"I'm right here! Are you mad?"

"I haven't gone mad,  _you_  have! Allura would never do what you're doing! What kind of fool do you take me for? Who put you up to this? Is this Father's doing?" He burned toward her, marking as the lust in her eyes disappeared and was replaced by fear.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! Lotor, it's me!" She rose to her feet before the bed and took a few steps toward him, palms outstretched. "I'm right here," she whispered. "And I want _you_." She deftly touched his bare biceps with her fingertips before reaching up to touch his face, but he was faster.

"Last warning," he murmured dangerously. His left palm closed around her throat and her hands froze mid-air. The last remaining traces of sensuality vanished from her eyes as unadulterated terror seeped in.

"Please don't," she whispered as he squeezed unkindly.

"I currently have no idea where my wife is." His voice was low and dangerous. With each sentence, he slowly backed her toward the bed, his hold firm upon her flesh. "And there is an impersonator in my chambers. That puts you in a very,  _very_  dangerous situation. Just tell me everything you know, even if it's very little, and I'll let you live. Did someone send you to distract me? Do you know who? When-" He froze as a gentle sound echoed around the otherwise silent chamber. The soft chime of glass on tile caught his attention and he glanced down to find what his toe had touched.

He felt his blood chill to ice when his eyes fell on a single, empty vial. He slowly looked back to the terrified woman in his hold. Wordlessly, he released her throat and dropped his hand to his side. His sword quickly found its sheath again.

"You didn't."

She backed away from him, tears brimming the corners of her eyes and her hands clasped in front of her chest.

"Tell me you didn't, Allura!" He reached down and snagged up the piece of glass and brandished it at her. She stared at him wordlessly, looking between the vial and his furious face.

He cursed loudly and slammed the glass on the ground. Allura winced as it shattered across the floor, tiny flecks of glass scattering. Without a sound, she fled the room, leaving the king standing in the middle of his chamber, surrounded by the destruction of his own making.

He cursed.

* * *

 

Minutes bled into hours as Lotor sat on the edge of his bed, feet planted on the floor. He couldn't take his eyes from the shrapnel littering the tile around him. It glittered dangerously in the firelight, taunting him. He could feel pieces of glass digging into the soles of his feet, but he didn't mind it. The aching pain was a welcome contrast to the chilling dread settling into his bones.

_How did she find it?_

He exhaled, placing his face in his palms.

_Such fear._

He hadn't seen such terror in her eyes since the day she had agreed to wed him. With patience he hadn't known he possessed and tenderness he would never admit to, he had warmed her to him. With time, he had even coaxed her to his bed. In a single, arrogant moment, he had _shattered_ it all.

His eyes opened and stared at the debris on the floor, unable to handle the memory of his hand around her throat. Lotor groaned, realizing if he had seen his mistake sooner, he might have salvaged her trust. Instead, he had threatened to kill her and even held her by force in the precise manner his father had done. Lotor looked toward a clock on the dresser. It was well into the morning hours and roughly six since she had left.

He found himself wondering where she had fled to. The second bedchamber? The other end of the castle?  _Arus?_  As much as the king yearned to go after her and sooth her, he suspected that she would not welcome his presence. Unsure what to do next, he sat sentinel in his room, his only company the crackle of the fireplace.

A knock sounded.

Lotor's head snapped to the door and he blinked. He held his breath, waiting, when a second, quieter knock echoed. He rose and carefully made his way to the door, touching the palm pad to open it. He stared, struck, by the sight before him.

Allura stood before him, wrapped in blankets he recognized from the second bedroom. She appeared otherwise undressed underneath, but he couldn't be certain. She clutched the makeshift robe around her as she shifted her weight on her bare feet. Her eyes didn't leave the floor even as he opened the door and stared at her blankly.

"Can… can we talk now?" As she whispered, her voice trembled. "…about last night?"

He swallowed and nodded once. Realizing she didn't see the nod, he spoke aloud.

"Let's go to the other room. There's… the glass on the floor is still there," he said stiffly.

Without taking her eyes from the floor, she turned away and numbly made her way back to the room she had slept in. He followed behind her, the strange sensation of anxiety lacing his veins.

She plopped down on the edge of the bed, still drawing her blankets around her body. Her eyes never left the floor as he shut the door behind him. Her hair was completely free, no braids about her face, and it was disheveled. It flooded over the bunched up covers and even concealed part of her face.

"I have no idea why I behaved that way," she whispered after a moment. "I have no explanation for why I threw myself at you like that. …I'm sorry."

He stared.

"What?" Dumbfounded, he could only articulate his confusion.

"I…" She reached up and touched her forehead wearily. "I'm ashamed of that behavior. I have… no answers for such actions. I don't… Stars above I have a headache," she muttered, massaging her forehead.

"I do," he said after a moment.

"You have a headache, too?" She frowned, still eyeing the dark floor tiles. She scooted back on the bed to sit cross-legged, hiding her bare feet beneath the warm blankets.

"I have an explanation." When Allura stayed quiet, he continued after a minute's pause. "You found a container that had a pink liquid in it, didn't you? And you drank it, am I right?"

She blinked and nodded once.

"…I'm sorry. I don't know why I did. It told me to, I… it was like it _called_ to me."

Silence.

"I had Haggar make that for you," he admitted quietly.

Allura blinked, remembering the cauldron in the lair. She slowly raised her eyes from the floor and looked across the room at him. If expressions were weapons, Lotor's heart would have been pierced by the stunned betrayal on her face.

"You… asked her… to make something to make me act that way?" Perhaps it was the fact that her words weren't angry nor loud that made them all the more devastating. She was simply, softly articulating a bewildered confusion.

"It was a while ago," he explained gruffly, averting his eyes. "When…" he trailed off as he realized his reasoning didn't matter in the end. He exhaled before answering her simply. "Yes."

Allura stayed thoughtfully quiet for a moment longer, further driving the weapon through his chest.

"Is that… what you wanted?"

"No," he grumbled. He glanced back to her, meeting her confusion with his own, tumultuous loss.

"But you did at one point," she pressed.

"I… It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," she insisted gently. "Tell me. Tell me what you were thinking. What you wanted. What you still want – I… I can't read you, Lotor. I need you to  _talk_  to me. …Please."

He growled softly and looked across the room.

"I was frustrated when you were so cold to me. I wanted a way around that. So… that happened. And I… …it never got used. We figured things out on our own without it. Somehow you found it anyway and… I should have destroyed that vile thing a long time ago."

Silent seconds became minutes as Allura took her time in choosing her next statement, mulling over the information he gave her.

"Do you want your harem back?" She tilted her head to the side curiously, watching him. His eyes snapped to hers at the question.

"The hell? What does that… What?" He blinked as the faintest of a smile twitched at Allura's lips at his confusion.

"Intimacy seems to be a… point of contention between us. I fear I am a bit… less indulgent in it than perhaps you are used to with your… companions," she chose her words carefully. "Is that… Would having that available again help… you?" She blushed brightly as she tried to delicately choose her words.

"You think I would choose those whores over you?" Allura flinched at the word before frowning back at him.

" _Slaves_ ," she corrected with frustration. "They weren't yours by choice," she said darkly. He stared at her intently. "But yes, if… someone with more experience and skill who could satisfy your physical needs better could… help us communicate better," she trailed off, fumbling awkwardly with the question.

"There is no single person in the universe itself that I desire more beneath me than you," he said with a solemnity that sent shivers down her spine. She swallowed nervously.

"And what happens when I'm not enough? When… it's not… often? Lotor, I've… not had another," she blushed brightly at the admission – a statement Lotor had long ago assumed to be a fact. "I can't be like… like those girls were. I don't…" She just sighed in frustration, bowing her head as she looked back to the floor. "…I'm sorry."

Allura gasped gently as she felt his palms touch her temples. The fierce king was on his knees in front of her, his lips pressing reverently to her forehead.

"Do not apologize."

She blushed, tilting her head up to look to him, a shy smile touching her lips.

"I do have one last question," she murmured, shifting to face him as he eased himself next to her on the mattress.

"Anything," he promised.

"If the…" she paused and bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating how to best word her thought. "…If the point of the… potion, I guess, was to… encourage that behavior… …why were you so angry last night? I mean… wasn't that exactly what you wanted? Wasn't that the point of it in the first place?"

He stared down at her and shook his head once, trailing the back of his hand along her cheek lightly.

"No. But, there are two questions in there," he clarified. "The reason I never tried to slip you the magic before then is that I… decided I didn't want to. I preferred to wait." He shifted uncomfortably.  "The second part… I was angry because… you were so different. You were not Allura. I genuinely thought you were someone else, sent to distract me. …I was concerned for you."

"Is… is that why you…" She reached up and touched her throat gently and watched as his eyes darkened.

"I am not proud of that. But yes. Had I realized what had happened sooner, I would have handled that situation completely differently, I assure you."

He stared, struck as she simply smiled up at him openly. Detaching her arm from the pile of sheets she wore like a queen's gown, Allura reached up to touch his cheek gently.

"You wouldn't touch me, even when I begged you to," she murmured. "You knew it wasn't really me in my mind. I never took you to be the gentleman type, to be honest," she giggled softly.

He couldn't believe the stunning woman before him.

"No more secrets though? I… I don't want to sound like a broken record about this, Lotor, but I really mean it. I want to trust you. …I'd like you to trust me to be understanding, too. …Or… at the very least," she paused. "…I'd like you to trust that even if I don't understand, I'll listen."

"You fled the room last night."

"I was afraid. And not entirely of sound mind," she admitted. "…but we're talking now, aren't we? I'm listening, Lotor. I'm listening to you. I  _want_  to learn. But I need a teacher," she added gently.

There existed no words in his language to describe the measure of pride he felt swell in his soul at the delicate words uttered by the fragile woman. She was so small, so gentle, and yet enduring and fierce. She was the antithesis of what anyone else would be in her position. She was neither fearful, timid and submissive nor bitter, cold and hateful.

"Magnificent," he murmured reverently.

"What is?" She looked curious. He simply chuckled darkly.

"You." When her brow furrowed in confusion, he laughed openly. His eyes never left hers and after a moment's contemplation, he decided to take a chance. For once, he would release a little control. "…Would you like to see what I was doing yesterday?"

He frowned as her eyes lit up in sheer delight.

"I would, yes! You would share that with me?"

"I warn you – it's likely not something that will be pleasant for you. It's why I've kept it from you. You may not like it or agree with it. But… clearly trying to keep things from you has not… benefited me. Or you. So, with that warning, if you would still like to see, I will show you."

"Yes! I want to know everything!"

"Are you certain of that?"

Allura felt her warmth and excitement chill at the lethal tone to his voice. She swallowed nervously.

"…yes," she answered with more calmness. "…even if I won't like it. I'd rather know than not know. ...After all, it hasn't been our differences that have caused us strife, Lotor. ...It's been our secrets."

He studied her for several minutes, stunned by her intuitive perception.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "Though you might want to get dressed before we go."


	15. Purgation

"Where are we?"

Allura's voice echoed off the narrow hallway as she descended down what seemed like hundreds of steps. Stone worn smooth beneath her feet slowed her gait, worried she might slip her footing and tumble. The aged staircase had long lost any of its traction, and the stone itself even dipped in the center of each step from use.

Dim sconces littered the wall as the staircase wound in a tight spiral. Lotor was two paces in front of her, a torch in his right hand. He paused and turned to look back at her. Even two steps lower than her, his towering height still brought him eye-to-eye with his queen.

"Are you certain you want to continue?"

Allura hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. The dark passageway was damp and left chills on her skin. Part of her wanted to flee the area and to put as much distance between her and their destination as possible. The darkness that seeped through the walls made her have to resist the urge to throw herself out into the sunlight to sunder the shadows. For the first time in her stay in Castle Doom, Allura felt the presence of something truly…  _evil._

She crossed her arms over her chest protectively, but even the luxurious fabric of her gown didn't ward off the dread. She was determined to see it through, however, regardless of how much both of them wished she wouldn't. Allura nodded resolutely at him once.

He sighed, almost in disappointment, before turning and continuing to lead the descent into darkness. After a second's pause and a flicker of hesitation, she followed behind him. Her garments trailed regally behind her, the navy drape concealing her bare shoulders but doing little against the permeating cold. With each step, the darkness felt thicker, the coldness felt damper and the evilness felt…  _closer._  It pulsed with a heartbeat that felt entirely _too_ organic.

Without warning, he froze again.

"Lotor, I told you, I want to-" Before she could finish her assurance to continue, he spoke.

"We're here."

With his back to the gentle woman, he carefully pushed open a heavy, rugged steel door. As it swung into the dark room, the hinges groaned and squealed in protest. He remained frozen in the doorway, as if contemplating something deeply.

"Lotor...?"

With no explanation, he stepped into the room and brandished the torch toward her.

"Careful of the floor," he said stiffly. "The filth that covers this place is not fit to even touch the bottom of your shoes," he said with disgust.

"It's only dirt-" She paused as she stepped around him and looked to the floor. She squinted in the darkness. "...isn't it?" Allura tapped her toe on the earth, frowning at the strange texture beneath her.

"More or less."

The ground felt... moist.

It was covered in a slick layer, and beneath that there was a texture unlike anything she had experienced before, though the queen was heavily disinclined to reach down to touch it with her bare fingers. She swallowed nervously.

"A lantern is here," he gestured to a wall and Allura carefully walked to where he was. Next to a metal bracket, a large wick rested against the stone surface. A touch of the torch ignited the primitive light source, throwing the far reaches of the room into a dim, golden glow and illuminating their location with a comfortable level of light. She rested the torch itself in the nearby bracket and returned her attention to the floor.

"What in the stars," she whispered. Her dainty pink heels rested on top of a layer of mold and scum coating the same bricks from the stairwell. Atop the fungus, a vile-smelling liquid seeped between the bricks. It oozed dark in the firelight and smelled of death itself.

"As I said. While this is not an unsafe place, it is painfully unworthy of your presence."

"What... is it?" She looked around slowly as the flickering light bounced off something swinging from the ceiling. Carefully, she walked across the room toward it and paused at Lotor's snort.

"Yes?" Allura looked over her shoulder as he nodded to the train of her gown in the grime. She smiled gently at him. "It will wash."

"It's fit to be burned, not adorn you again."

Allura found a strange, novel sensation - _proud_ , she realized - in his lofty view of her. While she wasn't inclined to agree with his measurements, the protectiveness brought out traces of flattery in her. It was a foreign feeling - to be so valuable to another - that she felt her cheeks burn at the compliment.

The queen looked back to the shining object that had caught her attention in the first place.

_Chains._

She blinked, wide-eyed at the cold metal hanging before her. She reached up and curiously tapped her finger against one of the heavy rings, eliciting a chime as the heavy collection of links vibrated.

Folding her hands across her chest, Allura stepped around the free-swinging metal to explore further into the room.

"You still haven't told me where we are," she whispered. Lotor said nothing, trailing behind her. His eyes stayed rooted on the woman, watching her for any sign of distress, discomfort, or worse - _horror_.

"Back so soon?" A weak voice growled out from the shadows without warning, causing Allura to freeze in her tracks. Her eyes went wide as saucers as they honed in on the source.

Slumped in a corner, the former King Zarkon rested on his knees, but not by choice, she quickly realized. His arms were extended out away from him, shackled in rusted, grimy steel bands. They were held taut in such a way that he could neither sit nor rise and was forever kneeling.

The old man was not in good shape - his health had deteriorated and he appeared thinner than usual. His clothing was frayed and torn, even slashed open in some places. Blood stained some parts of his vestments, some dried, some fresh. A dark, frightening stain seeped into the ground beneath him.

Allura suddenly realized that the pungent odor from the moisture on the floor came from a mixture of bodily fluids in varying states of decomposition. Her hands flew to her lips and caught the cry before it left her throat as her azure gaze absorbed the sight before her.

She stepped away shakily, her back bumping into Lotor's chest as he stepped around her, striding furiously toward his father.

"That's no way to speak to your queen," he hissed at the old man. Zarkon's head snapped up to look at his son in surprise before his golden, serpent-like gaze honed in on the pale, shocked woman standing in the center of the room.

"You brought your _pet_ this time," he sneered at her, earning him a kick to the ribs from Lotor's knee.

Allura's shoulders trembled. She looked away and turned in a slow circle, taking in the whole room. With the adjustment from her eyes in the dim light, she was able to see further into the darkness. Chains hung all around, manacles were bolted to walls and perhaps most terrifying of all was the stone table near Zarkon. Atop it rested an assortment of alarming instruments ranging from daggers and knives to whips and spikes.

"This is..." Her shaky whisper trailed off as Lotor gestured grandly around him.

"The Castle Doom dungeons, my beloved." His tone carried a lethal darkness with it as he watched the woman carefully.

_He's measuring me,_  she thought, her gaze sliding back to his. She recognized the judgment coming from the man. He had tried to shelter and shield her from the very room she stood in, and in her own stubbornness she had demanded to see his secrets. He had relented in the end, and his eyes dared her to break in the wake of the horror.

Allura instantly realized that he was watching for any sign of weakness - any justification that protecting her had been the better option all along.  _If you ask for truth, you had better embrace it,_  she reminded herself.

The queen released a shaky exhale and gathered herself into a more calm and regal presentation. Folding her arms elegantly across her chest to hide her trembling hands, she glided across the room to where the former king knelt before the current one and took her place beside her husband. She cast her enemy an aloof look before turning to Lotor.

"Are these the matters you've been attending to that didn't concern me?" She nodded toward the table.

"Yes," he challenged her. Without taking his gaze from hers, he lifted the braided whip from the table and brought it cracking down upon his father's back. Allura continued to stare at him, unflinching as the sound echoed around the room.

"What are you trying to prove?" She whispered stoically, her back rigid. Her throat felt as tight as her skin felt cold. The only thing keeping her standing was pure, unadulterated determination. She kept her arms bundled across her chest, fighting every urge to run screaming from the room.

_That's what he wants. That's what he's begging you to do._ She frowned suddenly.  _Why?_

"That perhaps, just perhaps, there are things you shouldn't see." To make his point, he cracked the weapon across his father's shoulders once more, eliciting a groan from the aging man. To his immense satisfaction, Allura closed her eyes and pressed her lips together tightly as she exhaled.

"Are you trying to shock me?" Her voice wavered only slightly, hinting at the absurd amount of strength it took her to hold her ground. Bile conjured in her throat.

"This is what we are. This is what we do. This... is what you  _married_. You wanted to know everything, you demanded no more secrets. Here it _all_ is," he grumbled. Another snap of the weapon on flesh sounded.

"Stop it!" Her hands unfolded quickly and clasped over her ears as her strength shattered.

Allura's voice echoed through the chamber, startling both men. Zarkon glanced up toward the once-stoic woman as Lotor relaxed. In a few, leisurely paces, he was standing in front of her.

She opened and slowly raised her eyes to him curiously. Without explanation, he gently lowered her hands from her ears and took her right hand in his. Within it, he placed the butt of the weapon and closed her fingers about the pommel.

"Revenge is yours to take, my sweet," he promised her gently. "It is your due and your right."

"I don't want-" She started to hand back the weapon when he stopped her. She froze, her breath caught in her lungs. His right hand wrapped around hers possessively, his left grasping her hip as he stared down into her eyes.

"Understandable on Arus. Even if not by blood, you're part Drule now, my dear. By taking your dues, you level the balance. You rule with power, and if you don't extract that which is owed to you, respect will never be paid."

She frowned up at him, struggling to understand the world he lived in. Her wide eyes flitted between his and Zarkon before returning to Lotor.

"For some of us, it would be insulting  _not_  to strike back. Our honor is everything," he said softly, his left hand releasing her hip to touch her cheek. Allura stared up at him for a moment longer before looking down to the whip in her hand. He gave her a comforting squeeze and released the weapon entirely into her control.

"That only breeds more hatred in the end," she protested softly. The monstrous implement looked staggeringly out of place as her slender digits curled around the grip.

"Do you think he will ever accept you? Do you think there will be something you can do to earn his favor? I've  _tried._  I've been his  _failure_  and _shame_ my whole life!  He’s even-” He coughed and quickly recovered after stopping himself midsentence.  “He despises everyone but himself. He is  _nothing_  without his crown."

Allura studied her husband but didn’t comment on the sentence he refused to speak.  She looked back to the device in her palm

"I..." She trailed off, torn as her fingers flexed around the handle. Her other hand reached to touch the flail end when he grasped her wrist to stop her.

"Nothing that has ever graced that should ever be touched by you… You could even take justice for your father, you know," he added. He released her wrist as she dropped her hand back to her side.

"You... you mean revenge..." She shook her head once, realizing what he was saying. "If you truly intended that, it would mean a sword through his heart, not a whip to the back," she explained, setting the weapon back down on the table dismissively.

 In response, Lotor placed the slender grip of a rapier in her palm.

Her eyes popped wide with shock at the implication.

"That can also be arranged," he murmured softly in her ear, hovering directly behind her. His gloved hands came to rest on her shoulders and he gently turned her to face Zarkon. "It's all yours for the taking."

She stared openly at the sword trembling in her hand and raised her eyes to the man who slaughtered her family, burned her home and stole her subjects into slavery. A strange fire bubbled in her breast and ignited her anger.  Entranced by the darkness around her, she began to believe any act she committed would be buried deep within the dungeon, even out of reach of her own conscience.

Lotor watched the woman carefully as she approached the fallen king and simply stared down at his humbled form. Silence heavier than lead fell upon the trio as she studied him.

"Well," he growled out gruffly, frustrated by the girl's stillness. "End it, then," Zarkon challenged her.

The  _tink_  of metal sounded as Allura placed the tip of the sword on the ground. Bracing against the hilt, she knelt to the floor, squatting to Zarkon's eye level, the sword in front of her for balance. Her knee never touched the earth, and she balanced purely on the strength of her thighs and the steadiness of the blade.

As her gown brushed the filth and slime around her, she stayed very quiet, watching the man who inspired so many nightmares in her youth.

Allura reveled in the moment; in her ability to stare her most violent, waking nightmare in the eye for the first time.

At last, she felt no fear.

The strange feeling of dominance flourished through her. Silence dragged on, the only noise in the large, stone room was a shift in Lotor's weight behind her and a gentle rattle of chains in the background.

Seconds became minutes as her eyes trailed over his face, his body, mesmerizing every line, every wound, every muscle. Her eyes landed on his right hand – the same collection of bones, tendons and muscles that had stolen her father; the same aggregation that had nearly choked the very life from her. After what felt like eternity, Allura finally tilted her head to the side, a frown touching at her lips.

"No," she said simply. Zarkon's eyes narrowed lethally on her and she only smiled weakly in response.

"Allura, it's-"

"I know, Lotor. I know. You've made that clear," she said as he spoke up from behind her. Her eyes stayed fixed on the man before her. Her eyes shimmered as she rapidly calculated her next move.

"What's your game then, girl?" The hoarse whisper was intended to be dangerous, but it only sounded weak.

"If extracting dues is part of the rules of your court, so be it. I will play by those rules as I now find myself a part of it. But I do not think it will be the way you are expecting me to," she paused as Zarkon's brow raised curiously, his eyes never leaving hers. When neither Drule spoke, she continued.

"I'm going to do something much, much worse... if I understand you correctly," she whispered, startling both son and father.  “And… I wish I could say I was sorry.  But I am not.”

"Allura," Lotor questioned her, stepping closer with concern. The queen just smiled openly at the prisoner. In a slow movement, she slid toward him, remaining in her crouch at his eye level. As she continued to balance against the sword, her left hand left the hilt. She flexed her digits and hesitated.

The queen closed her eyes and took a deep breath, calming her nerves.

With ethereal grace and undiluted determination, she opened them again. Never breaking eye contact with Zarkon, she reached out and touched his cheek in a shatteringly gentle gesture.

" _I forgive you_ ," she whispered simply, and with utter reverence. Honesty and earnestness reverberated in her gaze as she stared the once-fearsome king down. After a moment had passed, the only sound in the room was the clatter of iron when the blade fell to the floor as rose to her feet, stepping back from him.

She paused before Lotor and regarded him carefully. His expression was a flash of confusion, shock and fascination. "You know, this is... unexpected," she said thoughtfully, gesturing to the room.

"What do you mean," he guarded his expression suddenly.

"This is probably the single more terrifying place for me. At least... it was in very recent history. I now stand here. I... I _command_ it, in a way. I... you've given me back my courage, Lotor," she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear shyly. "I do not have the nightmares I used to, I do not... I do not  _fear_  the demons in the darkness any longer."

She gasped when his hands caught her jaw and pulled her in close, crushing his lips against hers. Allura giggled against him when Zarkon stifled gag in the background.

"Please kill me," he muttered bitterly.

She broke the kiss and stepped back, her palms on his chest.

"I'm going to return to our chambers and bathe. I do not wish to linger here, the darkness... it doesn't sit well with me," she explained.

"I would imagine not," he murmured.

"What is next with him then?" She pointed to Zarkon, but her eyes never left Lotor. The king just groaned.

"You... Oh, Allura. You complicate things so beautifully," he sighed.

"What did I do? I took my... dues, as you put them. What's left?" She tilted her head to the side curiously.

"Don't worry about it," he muttered dismissively. He started to exhale, but his breath was caught when he saw her stark expression.

"I know that I don't understand. I know-"

"I know," he murmured. "We just... finished talking about that and here I am trying to make your life as easy as possible by taking care of everything for you."

"Since when did you think I wanted an easy life? I've spent the last few years flying a giant robot lion in countless battles against you. Against both of you," she gestured to Zarkon before looking back to her husband. "What... what is it that you think that I want?" When Lotor stayed silent, Allura's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You promised I wouldn't be a prize on a shelf. Things go on shelves when they're too fragile to be touched, when they're too easily broken... when they're meant to just be looked upon and gather dust until they  _die_. Is that what you take me for?"

"Not in the least."

"Then... elaborate. What more is left, what... what happens now? What... cultural thing is going on in this room that I can't see?" Allura felt her lips twitch in a slight smile at Lotor's exasperated sigh of defeat.

"When he attacked you, when he... attempted... to take your life, three debts were taken," he began slowly, tossing his father a lethal look. "One, of course, was against you. He also made one against me," he explained. Allura stayed thoughtfully silent.

"He knowingly, willingly and likely quite gleefully, disobeyed a direct mandate from his king, bringing the total to three: you, the Crown, and myself," he finished.

"So when is his debt paid to you?" She nodded back toward the ailing man, catching Lotor's line of thinking quicker than he anticipated. He stared at her oddly for a moment.

"One is paid. One could consider the strike against the Crown paid for with his time in here."

Allura scooted closer to the man and tried to coax the rest of the information out of him.

"And then what about the one against your honor?"

"That one is not yet complete. It would take-" He froze as Allura's eyes widened, encouraged by the information.

"Yes...?"

"A duel in the coliseum," he finished quietly. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?" She smiled innocently.

"You want me to fight him?  I’ll kill him.”

"I never said that, I only asked what was keeping him down here. As I understand it, the part that concerns me is done. The rest is up to you. …thank you for sharing," she added genuinely. "But... I think I truly will take leave of this place now." She nodded to Zarkon once and then tossed her husband a waifish look before taking to the spiraling stairs.

"She's certainly stronger than I ever gave her credit for," the old man commented dryly. Lotor shot him a dangerous look before gathering up all the implements that had been on the table, including the rapier on the ground. After locking them away, Lotor withdrew his lazon sword and eyed the man dangerously.

Zarkon's eyes glanced between the sword and his son warily.

"Well?”

Without warning, Lotor slashed through the air. The chain links binding the man melted and shattered where the saber touched them. Zarkon pitched forward into the sludge on the ground and just grunted, not bothering to pick himself up. His dignity had long been lost. The reprieve from the manacles was enough.

"Indeed she is," Lotor said dangerously. "...Food will be brought down to you in a while. I highly suggest you do not  ** _ever_**  forget what happened here," he added, turning and leaving the dungeon, pulling the iron door closed behind him.


	16. Pervasion

Lotor strode into the bedchambers, pausing at the sight of his bride. Allura stilled in her actions as she glanced to him.

Her hands and the bath towel she clutched fell to her lap, her shower-damped hair in freefall down her back.

"Thank you, for sharing that with me," she murmured after a moment. The pink and white of her fresh gown glittered in stark contrast to the rest of the room.

He just sighed in response.

"I need to shower, as well," he explained, disappearing into the bathroom. She watched him vanish behind the door, leaving her to finish drying her hair before the vanity.

Allura chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

Her emotions flitted from sickened to honored and back again. The queen felt a sense of pride and satisfaction in the fact he had undone his guard to show her what he had been hiding. By the same token, she felt a degree of horror at just what that secret was.

_How can a son do that to his father?_

She found herself constantly struggling to understand the man – and his entire culture. Harm to one's own family was unheard of for an Arusian, but even Allura couldn't deny that the way they regarded their respective fathers was intrinsically, fundamentally opposite.

"I loved mine, more than the stars love the sky," she whispered to herself as she began to comb her damp hair out. She frowned. In Lotor's case, it seemed the reverse. Father and Son were enemies. Son saw Father as a hurdle or a barrier to overcome; an obstacle to destroy. Father viewed Son, in turn, as a threat. "How very foreign your culture is, my new husband," she whispered softly.

"What of me?"

Her eyes snapped around to the wet, towel-clad warrior standing in the doorway. She blushed brilliantly and shook her head once.

"Just… processing how _different_ we are."

"We aren't that different, you know," he admonished, walking toward the dresser for fresh clothing.

Allura naively averted her gaze as he changed in front of her.       

"Surely you must admit, we are like night and day," she pressed.

Lotor slid leggings past his thighs and fastened a clean tunic over himself before adding the royal accessories. He paused and looked to her intently.

"Would you also say that sun and moon are opposites?"

"Of course! Don't you think?" She glanced to him curiously.

"Not at all. On the contrary, I think it's a terrible analogy. Firstly, they both share the same sky. Secondly, the moon merely reflects the sun's radiance. It's a hollow impersonation. To hold it on par with the star itself is an insult." Allura's eyes widened at his observation, but he continued, unabated.

"Now. It takes two elements to fuse, Allura. For a star to burn brightly – to grant life, to grant heat… it takes two compounds coming together in a centralized core. Their combination, their… aggregation… produces all the ingredients needed to sustain an entire planet – even a star system.  _That_  is worthy of recognition. Ignore the paltry satellite with its reflective surface, and instead respect the elements that traversed the universe simply to come together in a union to make something completely  _new_."

Allura stared, her heart skipping a beat as he watched her intently. She swallowed nervously.

“Are… are we still talking about the star?”  Her voice barely found purchase, a mere trembling whisper beneath the heated look behind his eyes.

He grinned wickedly in response.

Lotor chuckled and shook his head once, breaking the moment of silence and tossed his damp locks over his back carelessly.

"I…" She paused, chewing on her lip as she eyed his shimmering hair in the dim room.

He stalked about, pausing to snatch up his boots from the ground, easing down onto the edge of the bed to tug them on.

"Not so different," she murmured. Her fingers tightened around the ornate comb she was holding and rose from the vanity.

Her feet quietly padded across the floor to him and his gaze snapped up at the sound of her approach. He paused in his ministrations, letting the boots fall back to the floor. A slender eyebrow quirked in her direction as Allura took a seat beside him on the bed before sliding demurely behind him, tucking her legs beneath her.

“You have to care for it,” she chastised him softly.

Lotor stiffened when her fingers brushed his back and Allura began to lightly comb through the ends of his wet hair, alternating between the ornament and her gentle fingers.

"You can tell me to stop if you like," she murmured in his brisk silence.

"Gods no," he murmured hoarsely. She paused, a slight blush touching her cheeks at the rough words before continuing.

With patience and practice, Allura quietly made her way up his long hair, paying close attention to every little knot, every stray strand, soothing them all back into their proper place with a painful attention to detail.

Lotor felt his eyelids drape shut at the actions, and he prayed to whatever divine being would hear him that it would never stop. Allura's demure touches were nothing he had ever experienced before. Light and delicate, kind and often shy – they frequently stunned him with their subtle intimacy. While he had never been want for a female's touch, something inherently primal and deeper came from it being  _hers._

Allura sat curled behind him of her own volition – she had even willingly approached and initiated the physical contact.  _She's…_  He paused in his thoughts. 'Servicing' was the word that came to mind most easily, but it did not capture the reverence and kindness that she gifted him with the act. He simply exhaled, surrendering to the delight of her fingers lacing through his hair.

"The Pit of Skulls."

Her words shattered his trance and he blinked at the ceiling, struggling to come back to reality as she continued to brush her way up his hair.

"What," he rasped out, his voice struggling to take purchase when her fingers accidentally brushed the back of his ear.

"Blue Lion," she continued quietly, unaware of the cataclysm she ignited within him. "I used a particle scattering algorithm to get past the atmosphere, and I buried Blue Lion underneath the Pit of Skulls so she wouldn't be seen. It gave me underground access to the castle and… well… what I had _hoped_ would be a discreet escape route with Romelle."

He exhaled, understanding what she was saying.

"You told me," he murmured.

"Well, since you've stopped keeping secrets from me, I decided I probably should practice what I preach," she murmured with a smile, finishing with his hair.

He turned to face her as she slid off the bed and started back toward the vanity.

"Wait," he commanded, catching her wrist.

Her eyes flashed to his warily.

"Allow me," he continued, holding out his palm for the comb. She glanced down to the ornament in her hand and realized what he was asking.

"Oh, you don't need to, I already-"

"I  _want_  to," he insisted, his eyes glittering. Allura swallowed nervously but allowed him to pull her back toward him. He slid back on the mattress several inches and turned her around, settling her hips comfortably between his thighs when she offered little protest.

His hand lazily snaked along the curve of her wrist and to her palm, deftly capturing the marbled comb from her fingertips, allowing as much of his hand to touch hers in the process as she willingly relinquished her hold on the tool.

Allura blushed, feeling the muscles around and behind her. Her hands curled together nervously in her lap. Even with all the time she spent around the man, having him physically close to her still put her on edge. Admittedly, the flutter of her heart and the tint to her cheeks hinted that it wasn't _fear_ he stirred in her lately.

His muscles flexed on either side of her, causing a catch in her throat. She exhaled, trying to relax. Just as she forced her body into a more quiescent state, sparks thrummed through her without warning when he brushed his bare fingers through her hair lightly. Her heart hammered into overdrive when his nails grazed her throat while drawing down the locks from over her shoulder.

Allura was barely aware of the fact he was working the comb through the ends of her hair, too consumed by the scent and feel of him surrounding her. She stayed dutifully still, attempting to will herself to be equally calm, but to little avail.

"You're tense," he murmured in her ear, causing a shiver to ripple down her spine and a gasp to escape her lips.

"You're close," she whispered back in response. He said nothing, but continued to take his time touching, smoothing and brushing out her sun-spun mane. Every few strokes through her hair, he allowed his fingers to draw down her back, touching her warm skin through the fabric of her dress.

With powerful thighs caging her legs and a wall of steel muscle at her back, Allura found herself feeling small in a very feminine way that caught her completely by surprise.  _I've always had to be so strong for everyone else…_  She blushed brightly, almost ashamed at the security and sanctuary she allowed herself to feel at his touch.

Fire ripped through her core and flooded her thighs when he drew her hair back away from her ear and leaned in, pressing his lips against her throat. She choked on the still-foreign emotion he ignited in her most primal reaches.

"It's safe to want, Allura," he murmured against her ear. His right hand still snaked gently through her hair while his left stroked from her thigh to her waist.

"It's safe to let go," he continued, drawing his hand fully up her side. Despite her sense of propriety and duty, she found herself melting back against him with an exhale.

Lotor released her hair and brushed over her cheek as her head leaned back, resting against his shoulder. Allura's eyes draped closed and she allowed the entirety of his form to take possession with his chest to her back, his legs flanking hers, his palm boldly caressing her chest and his cheek pressed to hers.

_Ice._

Allura's eyes snapped open and her body went rigid with little warning. Frost flooded her veins and the soft, warm emotions blooming within her vanished entirely.

Lotor stilled, sensing the stark change in her body language.

"What is it?" He released his grasp on her as she withdrew from his embrace. Standing weakly on her feet, she turned to look at him, an expression of confusion etched into her features.

"Allura?" He re-articulated his question with more concern at her frigid gaze.

"I don't understand," she said after a moment, shaking her head. Her arms crossed protectively over her chest as she regarded him in his seated position. He made no move to close the distance or reclaim her; he simply watched with caution.

"It's natural to feel-" She cut him off with another shake of her head, her arms tightening around her torso as she backed away.

"That same hand," she murmured, nodding to his right palm. He glanced down to it in confusion before looking back to her darkening features. "It's the same one you struck your father with.  _Hurt_  him with. And yet…"

Lotor grew still as he realized what she was recalling. The lines in his face hardened, but he said nothing.

"How can you do _both_?" Her lips pressed together thinly. "How can you be so… so cruel to him and yet… not with me?"

"Because you are two  _completely_  different people," he said firmly.

"Do you hate him?"

"Allura," he started, pausing as he considered her words carefully.  She deserved honesty. "…No, I don't think that I do."

"Do you love him?"

"Not at all."

He frowned as a heavy silence filled the room and Allura finally exhaled.

"I can't say I despise you for it, but I do begrudge you that," she admitted with a blush. "I loved my father very much and would give my soul to have him alive again. You have yours and you do…  _that_  to him," she murmured darkly. "But, it is as you said. It's not fair to judge two different people by the same metric. Alfor and Zarkon are nothing alike."

"Come back," he encouraged her gently, extending his palm toward her. Instead, she fixed him with a sad gaze.

"Why have you never been that cruel to me?"

Lotor looked as stunned as if she had physically struck him.

"Why would you think I could ever be?"

Allura only frowned in response.

"What's stopping you?"

His gaping, stunned expression only grew blanker as her unfathomable words.

"You're the woman that I love, Allura!"

"I'm the woman you _desire_ ," she corrected carefully, watching him.

"Because I love you!"

"You've only ever taken," she began, easing herself into the chair by the vanity, her eyes never leaving him. "You built this marriage on a barter – and a threat. Those aren't things you do to someone you love. Those are things you do to someone you _want_."

"Allura," he began, still reeling from her sudden change from warm and pliable to frigid and stoic.

"If your own blood and family can drive you to be that way with them, what happens when you tire of me? What happens if…" She paused, releasing a deep breath to try and control her panic. "Someday you may wake up and find I'm not everything you so desperately coveted. Someday you may even hate me the way you hate your father. …I think… I'm… I'm frightened of you… and of that reality," she admitted softly.

"Allura, I could never-"

"That's easy to say now. This is still new for you. This…  _item_  you have been trying to  _purchase_ since we first met, you finally have. Of course it's still fascinating. But what happens when things get difficult? What happens in a year when we still have the same struggles? What about in five years when new ones come up? We are… very, very different people. We are _going_ to struggle. What happens to me when… when you finally grow tired of that? …Of me?"

"In five years…" He trailed off, the thrilling realization that she was truly his for the rest of his life settling in.

"Of course. I gave you my word, Lotor. Unless you break your end of our agreement, I will be here. I said I would, and my word is my honor. To both me and my people, honor is everything. Without honor, without integrity, words become worthless. This is permanent for me, in my eyes. I… I do not break vows. It's why I have made so very, very few in my lifetime, because they are worth more than my own life to me," she explained softly.

Lotor stayed quiet, watching the fearsome –and fearful – woman with a new appreciation.

"I have…" She paused, considering her words carefully, weighing how much she wanted to share with the warlord. "I didn't just agree to marry you, Lotor," she began, her eyes sliding to his. The frozen blue struck him deep before she blinked slowly and turned them away from him. "Marriage is more than that to me. I gave you my future. In exchange for the lives of everyone I serve and care for, I have given you my most precious possession. I have surrendered the ability to govern how I end my days. I have given my freedom. You receive a... a  _prize_ … a wife – I receive a death sentence. I hope you can understand my… concerns. Your capacity for sudden violence frightens me somewhat, as I'd prefer to have my blood spilled across the floor in a single blow than end up in a similar position as your father, with the process drawn out… _indefinitely_."

"Never."

She laughed darkly without warning, surprising him once more.

"What happens when I grow old?" She just shook her head, waving off his displeasure. She turned away, facing the mirror once more. Her eyes flashed to him in the reflective glass when she heard the mattress shift.

She bit down on her lip nervously as he came to stand behind her, placing his palms on her shoulders before leaning over to stare into her eyes through the mirror.

"Allura. You are far, far more than any  _trophy_  or simple acquisition."

She tilted her head sideways when he pressed his lips to her temple. She frowned at the strange image before her. Worried lines creased her eyes, her cheekbones taut with tension and her skin paler than she was used to. The emperor of the Drule Empire leaned over her, encompassing her. The dark bedroom provided the surreal backdrop, completing the reflection Allura had never believed she would ever see.

"It's real," she whispered quietly, touching the midnight shawl folded on the vanity before her. Breaking her trance, she turned her head to look to the man who had stolen her future, raising her eyes gently as he allowed a small gap between them.

"Why do you cry," he murmured, reaching to brush aside the tears that budded in the corners of her eyes. Allura blinked; not even realizing they had formed.

"I… I think I'm sad," she replied, her bottom lip trembling. "…and scared."

"Don't be." His voice held the normal commanding tone, but the volume was soft and gentle. Carefully he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He stilled when her lip continued to tremble as she sobbed silently against him.

Lotor released a frustrated exhale.

"I should have never taken you to the dungeons," he realized verbally.

"No." Allura was quick to disagree, inhaling deeply to try and calm the erratic fear before he changed his mind on open honesty. "No, it was correct. At least…" She paused to sniff. "I would rather know than not."

"And look how you're handling it," he nearly growled, touching her chin to tilt her eyes to him. She obliged him, raising her tear-laden lashes. His lips pressed together thinly.

"I know. I'm… so sorry. I'm… very, very scared. And uncertain… But I would rather know. It might take a little more time for me to adjust… but I…" She inhaled sharply, her breath shuddering at the effort. "And I… I want to be able to tell you that I am not okay… I don't want… to hide it," she whispered.

"Tell me," he urged gently. "Why is it you don't believe me when I say I will never harm you?"

She blinked, a single tear rushing down her cheek.

"Because you have before."

"Not like-"

"No, not ever like that," she admitted, reflecting on the intentional cruelty he delivered to his father. "I think… I don't know, Lotor. Family is… precious to me. Something to be protected. Cherished. I have none of mine left. I think for me… it's hard to understand how if you're… capable of that with yours… and you wouldn't be with me, when he is blood and I am not. I think that is where my mind stalls. I think… I can come to understand it with a little time."

"Do you at least trust me?"

Allura stared up into his eyes silently for a moment. She reached into the recesses of her mind and soul, seeking how she truly felt about his question, determined to give him the most honest answer she could. Her eyes searched his as a single realization struck her.

_I am not an obstacle for him to overcome._

"Yes, I do."

She exhaled, the moment of clarity sundering the first layer of fear.

His eyelids draped closed in relief before opening once more. As his hands slid down her shoulders to her own palms, he guided her up from the chair, gently leading her back toward the bed.

She hesitated briefly before following him. Halfway across the floor, she withdrew her palms from his hands before recapturing one of his hands between both of hers. His eyes widened at the subtle gesture before sitting down on the edge of the mattress and looking back to her.

Lotor did not pull her down to join him; he instead allowed her the space to make her own moves.

Allura came to stand in front of him, her fingers tightening around his hand shyly. She chewed on her bottom lip, watching him as he stared up at her lazily. Delicately, he withdrew his hand from hers and leaned back into the sheets, his feet still planted on the ground.

Allura studied his reclined frame from where she stood before a twitch at her lips broke the impassive shield she wore.

"You're going to mess up your hair," she murmured, eyeing the way the silvered locks spiraled around him.

"I can't say I'd be troubled if you needed to brush it out once more," he replied, a grin touching at his lips when a blush colored her cheeks. She stepped forward, coming to stand between his knees. He casually folded his arms behind his head, content to watch the timid woman.

Allura moved first, closing the distance between them completely as she joined him on the bed. She placed a knee on either side of his hips, startling them both with her boldness. Despite the layers of clothing between them, the gesture was intrinsically intimate as she settled into position, watching him closely. Her skin flushed red from her own curiosity, but Lotor stayed politely silent and painfully still.

She hesitated before reaching forward and carefully removing the crimson drape that adorned his shoulders. With reverence, she folded the near-sacred garment and set it aside before turning her eyes back to him.

"Are you sure Haggar hasn't given you any of that blasted potion?" His voice was tight and the whisper sounded strained. Every muscle in his frame was tensed beneath her gentle body.

"I'm certain," she replied shyly, settling back onto her hips.

They sat in quiet silence for a moment, the king too afraid to move and frighten the woman off.

"Was there anything else you wanted to remove…?" He questioned her carefully, hiding the fierce pang of delight that flooded his system when she turned red.

Unable to restrain himself, he deftly unfolded his arms from behind his head and carefully reached for her. His palms closed around her waist and he guided her forward. With only the slightest reticence, she allowed him the control and placed her palms on either side of his face, her frame leaning over so close that their noses nearly touched.

"I'm not an obstacle," she murmured aloud as he brushed his lips against hers, hoping to encourage further action on her part. He felt her lips curl slightly against his at the gesture.

"I don't know what that's in reference to," he replied carefully, struggling to maintain coherency as her scent flooded him. "But no, you most certainly are not."

A shiver ran down his spine as her fingers brushed his hair back from his face. She leaned back slightly to look more closely at the utterly lethal man lying quiescently beneath her.

"Magnificent," he murmured appreciatively, staring up into her eyes. His hands slid up from her hips to her collarbone, delicately sliding the dress down her shoulders.

"No," she stopped him. She waited, breath held, to see if he would press his agenda.

He did not.

Lotor released his touch on her completely and folded his hands on top of his chest, watching her curiously. She did not pull away nor move off of him.

"Yes, my dear?" He inquired politely after several seconds of heated silence flooded between them. Allura averted her gaze from him in embarrassment.

"The… the times that we have…" She blinked, unable to finish the sentence, her skin redder than the right arm of Voltron.

"Lain together," he offered quietly at her hesitance.

"Yes," she agreed, her eyes fixed on something off to the side, unable to make contact with him. "It has been... it has at least felt… a little… one-sided," she hedged. The king remained quiet, his eyes studying what features of hers he could see, only marginally frustrated that she wouldn't look to him.

"I… you seem to know everything. I… do not."

She jumped slightly when she felt his hand brush through her hair. He stilled briefly before doing it again, allowing the golden satin pooling over her shoulder to slide between his fingers. He remained silently observant throughout her monologue, carefully watching as she grasped for her words amidst her emotions.

"I… I think that… that perhaps that should change. I… I believe that I… I would like to look upon you," she said at last. "Oh stars," she murmured, shifting her weight on him suddenly, her hips rising off his lap.

"It's alright," he appeased quickly, looking almost chagrined.

"What-" His earthy chuckle cut off her naïve question.

"I just found that idea  _extremely_ enticing," he explained, continuing to draw his hand through her hair over her shoulder as her eyes returned to him, guiding her back to her seated position. "By the gods, Allura, do as you like."

She swallowed nervously, eyeing the volatile man beneath her.  He stayed unusually still, watching her with a ferocious intensity.  Her blush deepened, but despite the tightly coiled strength in the warrior, Lotor stayed calm and very still, lending her courage to explore as she liked.

The only movement was the occasional touch to her hair.  Stifling her sense of righteousness, she allowed her curiosity to win over with his soft encouragement.  Allura reached forward and very carefully touched the center of his chest.  With trembling hands, she undid the first clasp on his tunic.

The very center of his core hummed with adrenaline as she cautiously, curiously and shyly began undressing him.  He exhaled deeply when her hands moved to the second clasp.  The sweet song of conquest flooded his bloodstream and he did all he could to hold himself back.  His instinct was to grasp the gentle woman and fling her onto her back – but he understood that doing so would accomplish little, and possibly undo much of what had already been explored.

Instead, Lotor forced himself to remain still and allow her the agonizingly slow pace she required.

Her hands trembled so violently that she had to pause at the third clasp and catch her breath.  Lotor’s hands abandoned her hair and quickly took the shaking palms in his grasp.

“I’m sorry,” Allura whispered, averting her gaze as tears sprang in the corners of her eyes.  “This is…”

“ _Safe_ ,” he finished for her.  “Take what you need.”  His thumbs massaged her palms delicately.  “Though,” he continued after a moment.  “I _do_ find it fascinating that of all the things you’ve done in your life – all the battles you’ve fought and beasts you’ve slain…  The nightmares that haunt you and the horrors you’ve endured… that _this_ is the moment that frightens you so.”

“…it’s different.  I never trained for this,” she admitted.  “I’ve learned how to be a pilot… how to fight.  I’ve been taught to rule, to govern and I’ve studied languages and diplomacy.  But I’ve never…”  She trailed off as his finger brushed her jaw.

“I’ve only heard stories,” she finished quietly.  “It’s not something they teach a young princess, you know.”

“You’re no princess any longer,” he replied coyly, subtly undulating his hips under hers.  Her eyes widened the blush deepened at the movement.  “You’re a queen.  An _empress._ ”

“So I am,” she whispered hoarsely, unsure how to process the strange cocktail of emotions in her blood.

“Relinquish your propriety, Allura.  We are behind closed doors, together as husband and wife.”

As her eyes flashed to him, Lotor felt his blood heat with the intensity of the look.

“I am just as much yours as you are mine,” he reminded her gently, watching greedily as she reached for him with renewed determination.

Two clasps later, he was helping her slip the tunic off his body before settling back into the sheets peacefully.  Allura continued to sit comfortably across his hips, eyeing her bare-chested husband before her.

“I still want a story,” she murmured, reaching out to touch him.  He inhaled sharply when her gentle fingers brushed his skin, tracing over the faint scar on his chest.

“Why are you so intent on that?”  His golden gaze narrowed at her warily.  Her teeth just clamped down on her bottom lip shyly, her eyes riveted on the lines of his body, her fingers still on the aberration in his skin.  Allura couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his, but she could feel the heated intensity of them on her.

“I just… I want to understand you,” she said after a moment.  “The horn of battle is a siren’s call to you, I rather believe.”  She paused, pressing her palm fully against the mark and sprawling her slender digits across his chest.

“But not for you,” he acknowledged, exhaling deeply beneath her touch.

“No,” she admitted after a moment.  “It chills my blood and frightens me.”

“But you heed it anyway.  Without fail.”

“Of course!”  Her surprised eyes fixed on his, her palm flat against his chest.   “The people I care most about need help.  I will always stand between them and anything threatening them.”

“But it scares you.”

She smiled down at the man beneath her body.

“Many things scare me.  That’s never stopped me from acting before,” she said gently, her palm flexing against him.  “What scares _you_?”  Her eyes slid up from his scar to his face.  “Surely something must.”

He exhaled once again as her hands traced the contours of his muscles; the reflection of his training, the result of his success as a conqueror.  Her gentle, pacifist palms found purchase against his hardened form, delicate fingertips brushing across his veins and the cords in his muscles.

The harbinger of peace touched the most accomplished warlord in modern – if not all – history with a kindness that nearly stunned him into total submission.

“You do,” he murmured with a gravel finality.  Allura paused in her innocent exploration, her hands stilling against him.  Her warm fingertips slid up his torso to touch his cheek.

“I frighten you?”

“In a way,” he explained vaguely before a primal growl surged from his lips.

“Did I hurt you?”  Her eyes widened in alarm, retracting her hands back to her chest quickly.

“Not at all,” he reassured her.

After a moment’s contemplation, she reached back toward him, letting her hands trace down his chest, shyly petering off as she touched his tensed abdomen.

“Go on,” Lotor urged, curling his own fingers into fists to keep from doing something he would regret to the trusting ray of sunshine before him.

“I…” she trailed off, her fingertips hesitating at his waistline.  He gently grasped her hands in his and guided them past his hips.  The muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexed as he lifted off the bed, slipping the leggings from his body in a smooth, fluid motion.

Allura flushed as crimson as a sunrise as she settled down on his completely unclothed form.

“I can’t do this,” she murmured, shifting her weight in an effort to move off his form.

“Why not?”  His gaze glittered sharply on her as she bowed her head shyly, stilling in her escape attempt.

“It’s… I…”

His fingers flexed around her waist and in a delicate movement, he rearranged her gown so that she settled against his hips with only the thin, satin fabric of her intimates separated their bodies.  Her eyes widened as she felt the full weight of him against her.

“In the way that you are mine, I am yours,” he reminded her quietly, his voice laced with promised as the queen struggled to find her courage. 

“I… _stars_ what must you think of me?”

Lotor stilled and regarded the woman closely.  She wore an emotion like a mantle, and until the moment before him, he had taken it for granted that she was merely shy or innocent.  He realized what he was seeing in actuality.

“You’re _ashamed_ ,” he whispered, stunned.

“Of course,” she pouted back, every square inch of her skin a flaming shade of red.

“Why though,” he mused gently.  Despite the temptress straddling his body, he felt a strange, earthly call to stillness as he explored the uncharted territory with her.

“It’s not… it’s not proper,” she blurted out in frustration.  “We don’t talk about it, we don’t… as far as the public knows, it’s not an activity anyone does.  It’s private and… and it’s not something ever discussed,” she finished quietly, a pout on her lips.

“You’ve never learned,” he murmured in understanding.  “How strange your culture is,” he unknowingly repeated her words back to her with genuine wonderment.  “Allura, there is nothing improper in what is happening here. We are in private, doing what every couple does.  No one else knows,” he encouraged quietly.

“And you don’t… think less of me?”

“Why in the seven hells-” he paused, exhaling deeply, checking his sudden temper at the frightened doubt on her face.  “ _Of course not_.  It is our right and privilege to enjoy each other’s company – yours and mine.”

Allura stayed hesitant and shy, continuing to straddle the undressed man.

“One of three things can happen now, Beloved,” he continued in her silence.    Her eyes flickered demurely to his and he felt his pulse heat throughout his body.  Judging by the slight widening of her eyes – she could too. “We can stop altogether.  We can continue at your leisure, or I can guide us forward.”

Allura bit down on her bottom lip nervously but said nothing.

“Allura, my dear,” he purred her name with another, subtle buck of his hips, eliciting a soft gasp from her lungs. “What do you w _ant_?”  He paused a moment before continuing.  “Not what do you think you _should want_ , but what do you, beloved wife, desire right now, in this very moment?”

She blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice.  Her eyes studied his face for any hint of manipulation or cruelty, scheme or judgment.  She found none.

Allura’s cheeks turned crimson and she dropped her lashes, regarding him through their veil.  Her weight shifted suggestively before leaning forward to brush her lips against his.

“I think I’d like to get to know you better,” she said between her kisses.  He growled his appreciation and she felt his fingers tighten around her waist.  His hands abandoned her sides before sliding up her legs beneath the layers of her gown.

With coiled, controlled strength, the king rolled up slowly into a sitting position, leaving her kneeling across his lap.  She gasped sharply as his expert fingers navigated the single layer of satin between their bodies and she felt his cock’s heat against her.

Lotor’s arm hands caressed the skin of her hips and thighs encouragingly as her muscles remained taut, her form hovering over him.  His lips snared hers with a fevered need, but he did not rush her. Allura’s trembling hands touched his cheeks and she drew her husband closer to her before carefully easing her body down, sheathing him fully.

The thrum of victory purred through his chest as her slender frame fully entombed him, her weight resting against his hips.  Allura’s breath caught in her chest as electricity danced across her skin with the intimacy of the connection.  Despite the ferocity and ambition with which he took her mouth, his body remained still save the iron grasp he held her with.

Every inch of exposed skin flared red from her boldness, but his encouragement helped quell her modesty.  Biting down on her bottom lip, her thighs flexed as she undulated against him.  The low hiss he exhaled stilled her movement.

“No,” he murmured weakly, quickly understanding her doubt.  “You’re fine.”  He barely whispered the words before catching her lips with his own, promptly doing something he had wanted to do for a very long time.  Allura’s soft lips gasped against his when his teeth replaced her gentle nibble on her bottom lip.  He courted the swell of her mouth with more aggression than he intended, but she did not shy away from the soft sting.

Heat flooded her frame.  She moved while she still had the courage to do anything at all, drawing him back into her.  As she repeated the motion, his breathing became more ragged and he released her lips entirely, letting his forehead come to rest against hers as the two moved together.  As she rose, he rose with her, repositioning himself slightly.  A breath between their lips and even less space between their thighs, Allura felt a communion she had never experience before.

A gentle moan escapes her lips, lost in the heady moment flushing between them.

An exchange of power thrummed through them both as her arms folded over his shoulders for support, her fingers laced together behind his head, entangled in his hair down his back.  The heat surging between them burned her skin and mind, searing out stray thoughts or doubts.

Only _power_ remained.

That power burned between them both, neither residing nor stemming from either one individually, but flaring solely from the space that existed in _between_.

“Does… it feel different to you?” She whispered, leaving her lashes closed over her eyes.  Lotor’s breathing labored and Allura felt the warmth of it against her face.  Two pulses passed between them as she surged against him, before he answered her question, the couple moving through waves like strides.

“Yes,” the word was ragged and unrefined, more of a guttural noise than a word.

“Why,” her own voice was breathless as she struggled to curtail the heat cycloning through her form.  She felt as though she were one stray ember away from combustion.

Allura felt his eyes open – not from any muscle twitch or flutter of a lash – she _felt_ the intensity of his gaze on her and it very nearly undid her.

“You,” he exhaled briefly, catching the word between waves.

He positively _throbbed_ within her, each push of her muscles, each clench of her softness threatened to spill him.  _How could one woman…_  

“Me,” she murmured. “I-” Her words were lost as a shattering spasm rolled through her body, eliciting a throaty cry. 

“Gods above us,” he growled out, resisting the release that threatened under his own skin.  He continued to move with her, helping more as her energy started to fade from the exertion.

A sharp gasp cut through the air as Allura sucked in her breath suddenly, her brow furrowing.  He pulsed beneath her, driving up into her semblance.

“Go on,” he encouraged roughly with another surge from his hips.  “Don’t hold back.  Unchain yourself.”

The conflagration ignited and for a harrowing moment, Allura was certain her bones would turn to ash.  With her modesty shattered around her, the gentle queen allowed the heat to sear her.  Her nails dug into his flesh, her back arched in a near-violent spasm.  Throwing her head back, Allura’s lips parted as she released a guttural cry that echoed off the marble floors as her body climaxed around his, drawing the same reaction from him.

Lotor practically snarled his ferocity as he filled her, riding the high of their crescendo.

As the inferno receded, Allura sank weakly against the man beneath her body.  His arms left her hips and the folds of her gown for the first time, encircling her slender frame and drawing her near.  His own, labored breath matched her own, equally spent.

“I…” She trailed off, struggling to catch her breath.  “Glorious,” she murmured after a moment, her head tucked against his chest demurely.

“Yes, you are,” he replied throatily.

Allura’s eyelashes fluttered and she glanced up to the man shyly.  Pressing against his muscled shoulders, she carefully and slowly disentangled their bodies.  Once free from him, she collapsed on her side on the bed.

“…I rather believe I have a new appreciation for the level of endurance required to sustain that sort of activity,” she murmured, causing Lotor to bark out a laugh as he watched the coveted woman. “I am completely exhausted.”

“You should change your gown,” he murmured, watching the rumpled and disarrayed queen thoughtfully.

“I have the strange urge to sleep,” she murmured in response.  He chuckled darkly.

“It’s barely midday, my sweet.”

“Scandalous,” she said, letting her eyelids drape closed.  Lotor did not miss the ghost of a smile that laced her lips as she nestled into the sheets of their bed.

His eyes stayed on his wife a moment longer before rising from the bed.  He faltered slightly, his own muscles aching from the strain of the position he had held.  After stretching his legs out, he glanced back to Allura, relieved to realize she did not catch his momentary weakness.

A twist to his spine and a pop from the bone later, he felt far more languid.  Allura, conversely, seemed untroubled and was happily curled on her side.

 _Damn the politics,_ he thought.  His mind flickered over some of the upcoming agenda items he had intended to address later in the day, but even the unification of the Empire seemed pale compared to the glow before him.  With a soft, appreciative chuckle, he strode to the door and tapped the lock, ensuring that their rest would remain undisturbed before rejoining his wife.

Lotor took care to deftly pull her to his chest as he slid into the bed beside her, dwarfing both their frames in volumes of blankets.  Allura stirred, but gave little resistance; instead she happily tucked herself into his masculine frame, allowing her head to rest upon his shoulder as his arms wound gently around her body.

                He took advantage of her wakefulness and promptly sat up, tugging her with him.  In a swift movement, he unzipped the back of her tussled gown and slipped it from her frame.

                “Lotor!”  She flushed as he let her dress fall away, leaving only a modicum of modesty on her flesh.

                “Allura, we just…” he trailed off, his frustration melting into amusement at his fickle wife.  “Always so proper,” he murmured, removing his hand from her undergarments, granting her the slim shield she clung to.  She nestled into him, hiding her blush, surprised by her own comfort at their proximity and state of undress.  Even she had to admit that the electricity that flowed from the skin-on-skin contact was astounding.

“Why did it feel different that time?”  She turned her blue gaze up to him curiously as he settled them back into the bed, laying on his back and pulling her deftly to his chest.

“What did you feel?”  Allura only blushed more, glancing away.  One of his arms circled around her slender frame possessively, his fingers splayed wide over her hip, while the other toyed gently with the distressed strands of golden hair framing them both.

“I felt… I’m not sure how to describe it,” she murmured, shocked by the comfort she found in their body heat, buried beneath the covers.

“Try,” he encouraged in his characteristically commanding tone.  She pouted up at him briefly before seriously considering the request.

“… _connected,_ ” she finally articulated after several moments of silence.  Lotor remained quiet as he reflected on her words.  “I felt… strong.  No… that isn’t the right word,” she frowned to herself, digging through her vast lexicon to find the correct expression.

“Empowered,” she finished at last, nodding once.  “That, I believe is the right word for the feeling.”

“You weren’t afraid that time.  It was a true exchange,” he said softly after a moment.  “As you said earlier, it has been… one sided up until now.  But you were able to let go of that which was holding you back.”

“I wasn’t… afraid before either,” she said with confusion.

“You weren’t?” He raised a knowing eyebrow at her.

“Well the act itself frightened me, of course,” she said, continually finding surprise in the comfort she had discussing such intimate matters with the man – and likewise, surprised by how gently and openly he fielded her questions without judgment.  “But you didn’t.”

“A physical courtship can be many things, Allura,” he turned his eyes to the ceiling, leaning back into the pillows as he stroked her skin absentmindedly.  “It can be vulgar, it can be divine, it can be rough or gentle – it can be any combination of what the two individuals make it out to be, it’s limitless.  But the one underlying chord that binds them all together, is the complete release from reality, from belief and the total surrender to the other-”

“Surrender!?”  Allura’s gasp drew him up short and he laughed.

“Perhaps a poor choice in words on my part, my dear.  I didn’t mean it in the literal sense as you may have come to know it.  I simply meant to lay aside one’s resistance and fears and simply experience the moment between them – however it may be constructed.”  His fingertips brushed through her hair in a soothing manner as her temper calmed with his explanation.

“…Kind of like we’re doing now?  I mean…” She trailed off.  “You described it as a… ‘physical courtship’ … what’s to say that must always involve…”  Allura faltered and Lotor touched her jaw gently with his finger and turned her eyes to his.

“You can say that word, Allura.  It doesn’t defile you to speak of such activity.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled.

“Sex, then,” she articulated boldly.  She was proud of the strength of her words, but the crimson that quickly flooded her cheeks belied her naivety still.

“Very good,” he murmured, giving her a reprieve from his gaze as he returned to stroking her hair.  “And yes, I suppose like we are now.”

She exhaled in relief, a shiver running through her body.

“Allura?”  Lotor glanced back to her, a trace of concern thrumming through his voice at her strange reaction.

“That felt… strange to say.  It felt… wild,” she admitted.

He blinked.

“I don’t understand how speaking of something in… even extraordinarily appropriate terms… would feel that way.”

“It’s not something… spoken about.  That’s all,” she explained.  “I felt… unbridled, like I was breaking a rule.  Like for a split second, I didn’t have to be a proper princess any longer.  It was a little exhilarating, to be honest,” she murmured, tucking closer into his side, her knee hitching up over his thigh.

He tugged her closer in response, exhaling deeply.

A knock sounded on his chamber door, startling the girl at his side.  Allura looked up at him wide-eyed.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll leave us alone?”  He grinned down at her conspiratorially, his fangs peeking out subtly.

“Did you ever meet with that kingdom you had mentioned the other day?”

“No,” he admitted.  Allura giggled in response.

“Then no, I do not think they will leave you be.  That was of fairly high importance,” she murmured.

“ _Damn the politics_ ,” he growled softly.

The knock sounded again and he groaned, releasing Allura to rub his palms over his face.  He crawled out of bed and began tugging on his clothes, barking out an irritated reply to a third knock.  Lotor’s eyes swiveled back to the bed and once more, his queen nearly bringing him to his knees.

Allura lay curled on her stomach, watching him with a gentle fondness, her forearms folded in front of her chest demurely with the sheets bunched at her hips.  The smooth skin of her back glistened in the dim lighting.

“Gods above if I didn’t want you at my side for this meeting, I’d want you to wait for me just like that.”

She blushed before gently sitting up and stepping from the bed to change into something more appropriate herself.  As Lotor watched her quickly redress into a fresh gown and brush out her hair, he shook his head once.  He decided it would be impossible to lose the beautiful memory she had just granted him – that he could ever forget even a single detail of it all.

He prayed he never would.


	17. Practice

“Well, that went quite well,” Allura chirped optimistically, striding out of the meeting room. Lotor glanced down at the bubbly woman, pleased to find her in the higher spirits than he had ever seen before.  For a flickering moment, he foresaw a comfortable, amicable future between them.

“Indeed,” he murmured, shifting the weight of the leather-bound tome in his arms.  Her nose remained glued to the screen she held in front of her, her finger skimming the surface as she absorbed the numbers that were displayed.  Satisfied, she handed the tablet-sized viewer back to him.

“Your lazon supplies are safe and accounted for.  The issue with the revolt around the mines was taken care of, and moreover, no one got hurt,” she said with an exhale, the relief apparent in her voice.

“You were worried about that, weren’t you,” he mused gently.   She bobbed her head up and down before quieting.

“I don’t like to see anyone suffer,” she admitted gently.  “Surely that’s not news to you after all this time?”

“It is not, no,” he agreed, leading the way down the hall.  He paused at the door to the study and set the items in his arms down on the desk before turning back to her.  Allura did something she had never done before prior to their engagement, and had been since doing with subtle but increasing frequency.

She smiled at him.

It wasn’t pained, stressed or forced, neither was it made to hide something darker behind it, or to produce a façade to help advance her own agenda or escape. 

It was pure and genuine, and the stark difference between her unfettered delight and her gritty determination struck him in a profound way.

“Allura,” he began as he stepped toward her.

“Yes?”  She blinked up at him, her eyes shimmering with hope as she whispered the answer to his summon.  He could only stare down at her.  Absentmindedly, he lifted his hand to brush a single strand of hair from her face, letting the back of his fingers trail down her cheek lightly.  He dropped it to his side and shook his head once, clearing the fog she inspired around him.

“I have something to show you,” he replied after a moment.

Her smile darkened slightly.

“…oh?”  Her words were softer, a soft crease of worry forming on her brow, but her eyes held their hope unwaveringly.

“You look troubled,” Lotor murmured, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. She forced a smile back to her lips at his touch.  He was both concerned and proud of the fact he had learned recognize the differences between her facial expressions.  Her current expression was a shield: masking her concern, not the same blinding, open joy that had existed seconds prior.

“The last time you said that, we went down to the dungeons,” she reminded him gently.  Lotor’s hand stilled at the words before folding his arms back across his chest.

“It does have to do with that,” he admitted after a moment.  “But no, we aren’t going back there.” He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips when her face shifted to wary curiosity.  She actively tried to hide her inquisitiveness, but failed pitifully.

“Well, what is it then?”

He regarded her a moment before taking her by the arm and leading her down the hallway.

“It has to do with my father,” he began, pausing as Allura stopped in her tracks.

“What of him,” she asked, withdrawing her arm in an attempt to fold them over her chest.  Lotor hesitated, his grasp on her tightening subtly for a fraction of a second before he released her.

“I’ve… had him moved from the dungeons.”

Blue eyes widened in surprise, but she stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.  Lotor exhaled deeply in response, shifting his gaze down the hallway.

“Someplace I think you might find a bit more… _humane_ ,” he indicated.

“Oh,” her breathless whisper caught his attention and he glanced back to her flushed cheeks.  He held out his palm toward her.

“Come, I’ll show you,” he beckoned.  Allura eyed the man warily before unlocking her arms from her chest and delicately placing her palm in his.  Gently, he led her through the corridors of his castle, reveling in her trust.

Without warning, Lotor stopped and palmed open a door.  Inside the room was a foyer that had windows to four other rooms flanking it.  Three of the rooms were dark, but one was dimly lit. 

“This is a medical ward that I’ve converted into something a bit more… secure,” he explained, walking across the central chamber to stand before the window, his arms folded over his chest.

Allura shuffled warily across the floor, grateful for the impeccable cleanliness of the room.  It shimmered in stark, sterile contrast to the grittiness of the dungeon.  She stood quietly at his side and peered through the window.

The former king sat on a metal cot, a book open in front of him.  He seemed bored senseless and after several minutes of staring at the pages, he leaned back against the wall and exhaled, closing his eyes.

“He receives proper meals now, and has been treated for his injuries,” he continued, glancing down to the woman at his side.

“Can he see us?”  She whispered her question to him, clasping her hands in front of her nervously.

“No.  This window functions as one-way glass.  We can raise the screen if we wanted to speak with him, but at this moment, he does not know we’re here.”

In Allura’s silence, he continued, looking back to his father.

“Would you like to speak with him?”

“No,” she murmured quickly, shaking her head once.  “Not only do I not know what to say, I do not think he would welcome anything I had to offer.”  Her eyes skimmed over the Drule prisoner.  Enough time had not passed for the hollowness of his features to soften and he still retained his sickly look, but she could see traces of bandages wrapped around his torso peeking out of his clothes.

“So… what next?”

Lotor glanced down to her at her question.

“In what way?”

“Is he… just going to live out the remainder of his days in there or…?”  She couldn’t bear to bring her eyes to meet his and continued to study the once-terrifying monarch safely locked under glass.

“That is part of what I wanted to discuss with you,” he hedged carefully, studying the profile of her face for any reaction.  He found none.  She merely nodded, keeping her silence.

“Allura,” he said suddenly, turning fully to face her, startling the woman into looking up at him.  “What do _you_ want?”

Her jaw tensed, staring into Lotor’s eyes.  A million thoughts flew through her mind but she remained silent as she looked back to the man who had stolen her childhood from her with a swift and brutally elegant strike.

“Please don’t ask me that,” she whispered after several seconds ticked by. “I do not know the answer.”

“In your wildest – _darkest_ – fantasies, what is it you would have of him? Strung up?  Beheaded?”

Allura continued to watch the former king through the crystalline shield.  His eyes remained closed, his chest rose and fell with the deep, calming breaths he took.  Seconds bled into minutes as she absorbed every detail of her nightmare.  Her head tilted to the side.

She exhaled once before answering him.

“In my darkest daydreams, my deepest fantasies… we are peaceful – albeit perhaps wary – allies,” she admitted quietly, her own voice barely above a whisper.   “I do not wish animosity.  I wish for peace.  I fear I will never have that.  He hates my very blood.  He will never _not_ see Alfor when he looks to me,” she finished, shaking her head.  “I don’t believe that the reality I crave is possible.  Any effort I make to extend peace would only be seen as an insult. Shy of that, I wish him no ill will at this point.”

“Allura, he _burned_ your planet,” Lotor pointed out.  His queen frowned in response and looked to him.

“So did you.”

He stilled in the wake of her challenge, her unwavering blue eyes honed on him in a delightfully dangerous way.

“I…” he trailed off when she continued to regard him.

“My point is,” she explained after letting him flounder in her gaze.   “My fear has never been _him_ – it’s always been his retribution.   That appears to have been eliminated since the… _arrangement_ you and I made.”

Lotor remained silent as Allura’s eyes returned to the fallen king in the cell.

“I’m so conflicted. Part of me hates him,” she whispered.  “He burned everything I cared for, murdered the people I loved. I don’t think I could ever forget that.  I _can_ forgive it, if he were to ever embrace that offering.  I _can_ move on.  Stars know I have before.  But I will never _not_ remember what he stole from me,” she finished quietly.  Her arms laced over her torso protectively.  “It might be easier if he wanted to talk… I don’t expect an apology.  I’m not even sure I could trust it even if he did have one to give.  The future doesn’t have to be the past.  But we cannot ever erase history.” 

She pressed her eyes closed tightly, her palms coming to rest over them, her frustration blossoming.

“He _hates_ me.  He hates everything I represent, and he abhors my existence.  …I don’t know that any peace can be made from that.  But, if it can…  I must sound like a mad woman.  I say I want something, and then if I received it, I’d refuse to accept it.  I truly don’t know.”  She sighed, opening her eyes and casting a sad look toward Zarkon’s prone form.  “I really don’t.”

With wariness, she turned her gaze back to her husband.  He studied her with a guarded expression, muted emotions hidden behind his golden gaze.  She frowned.

“I suppose that’s not a very satisfying answer.  At any rate – if he won’t try and kill me again, I’d rather he not even be locked up at all, but that’s not really my decision,” she finished, her eyes sweeping away from the intense look he bestowed on her.

“I see,” he murmured quietly before looking back to his father.  “I’ll see what can be arranged,” he hedged carefully.  “I’m only concerned with your safety.”

Allura’s attention perked at the statement.

“You don’t still hold a debt against him?”  She cast Lotor a curious look.  He shook his silvered head once in reply.

“No, but releasing him would put you in danger once more, I refuse that.”

Serpentine eyes narrowed at the demure smile that curled at his wife’s lips.

“Well,” she began softly, her mind calculating as she spoke and the playful light brightened.  “Teach me then,” Allura challenged.

Lotor blinked.

“Teach…?”

“Train me to fight.  Train me so that if he ever attempts that kind of behavior again, _I’ll win._ ”

It took every ounce of resistance in his body to keep from scooping the tiny, fierce woman up in his arms and utterly claiming her on the nearby table.  The warrior’s light in her eyes sent thrums of adrenaline though his body and he curled his palms into fists to rein the urge in.

He coughed, slowly regaining control of the heat scorching through him.

“Allura,” he whispered, her name ragged and breathless on his lips.

“ _Teach me how to win_ ,” she all but commanded him.

There had been so little hope to begin with – Lotor was only mortal and as her raw, undiluted determination slipped from her lips, his own pressed against hers with aching need.

Allura whimpered in surprise, finding her back suddenly pressed into a wall that definitely had not been behind her a moment ago, his muscled torso pinning her delightfully in place.

One of his hands curled around her hip while his other laced through her hair, tilting her head back as his digits entwined with the strands.

“Lotor!”  She barely gasped out his name as he assaulted her throat, lips hot and teeth sharp against her skin.  The king’s fingers curled around her thigh and in a single motion, he hitched her leg onto his hip, aggressively pressing his arousal against her own, drawing a throaty moan from her as she whimpered again.

“I… this… I can’t…” she gasped out.

“You are _utterly_ magnificent,” he whispered against her ear, thrusting against her teasingly… promisingly.

“Stop,” she murmured weakly, her own breath weak and needy.

“You’ll end me,” he swore darkly, leaving a soft kiss on her lips before easing her thigh down and acquiescing to her.  “What is it?”

“…It’s… it’s Zarkon!” Allura’s own fluster cooled as she pointed across the room to the cell. “We can’t… behave _that_ way here!”

His brow furrowed and he looked over his shoulder, temporarily stunned as if he had forgotten the man was even there.

“He can’t see or hear us, you know.”

“It’s still creepy,” she muttered dryly, folding her arms over her chest.

“Come, let’s go elsewhere.  I will show you some proper sword techniques,” he murmured, taking her by the hand and swiftly leading the flushed woman from the cell.

* * *

“This is… surreal,” she murmured vacantly, watching her warrior husband pace in a slow arc.  He stilled and his eyes glanced to her just as she raised hers.

They stood in the Coliseum, the floodlights on overhead but the stands empty.

“I’d imagine so,” he agreed with a nod.  Both turned their heads at the sound of footsteps.  Two guards appeared from the preparation room hauling between them a rack of weaponry.  They set it down before the couple.

“Here, Sire,” they said in unison with a bow.

“Grab the targets as well,” he instructed as he strode toward the wooden display.  Allura watched him as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  Deftly, she joined his side, studying the affluent steel.

“So many different kinds,” she murmured, reaching to touch a particularly wicked-looking pike.  His gloved hand closed over hers.

“That one might be better suited for later, if it intrigues you,” he said gently, his eyes glancing up as the guards returned and set up the practice targets.

“I have no idea where to begin,” she murmured, overwhelmed by the sheer variety.

“Let’s start with something you’re most likely to have on your person at all times,” he suggested, drawing from the stand a medium-sized backsword.  He studied it closely for a moment, judging it as a candidate as he tested the weight and balance. “Try this one,” he said as he flipped the blade in his hand and presented the grip to her.

Allura eyed the steel warily before grasping the pommel between both her palms.

“Show me your stance.”  His eyes drank in her form as she stood almost shyly before him.  The queen had taken the time to change from her billowing gown into more practical black combat fatigues, not unlike the ones she had been wearing when he first caught her infiltrating his fortress.

With her hair pinned back, she exhaled nervously and nodded.  In a sweeping motion, she turned her body sideways to him, drew her left foot behind her and brandished the sword toward him with her right arm.

He barked out a laugh and stepped sideways from the blade, despite it being nowhere near his body.  Lotor grinned appreciatively at her and covered the distance between them as he came to her side.

“Some adjustments,” he said gently, one hand closing around her wrist and the other pressing into her opposite shoulder.

Allura allowed herself to be pliable in his hold, his fingers manipulating her form as he shifted her weight and nudged her stance closed.

“First, it’s upside down,” he murmured in her ear as his hand flipped the single-edged blade in her grip.  “See how the blade is wider at one end?  That’s the blunt part.  Be careful though – notice how the wedge flares at the tip? At the very end it is double-edged, make sure to never let that hit you.  It’s designed for ease when piercing your enemy.” 

His lips pressed into her hair just behind her lobe, a shiver rolling down her spine as his proximity. He didn’t just stand _near_ her to help with the adjustments, he stood _around_ her as he guided the stance of her hips, the subtle shift in her weight and even the delicate way her fingers curled around the steel.

“Next,” he purred against her, his hand sliding boldly from her shoulder to her hip, he pulled her against his thighs.  “Allow your balance to sink into the earth.  Be ready to move with no warning.”

Allura released a shaky exhale as his hand curled possessively over her leg.

“Second point.”  His fingertips wrapped delicately around her hand cradling the blade.  “Never point your weapon – this one, or any other – at another Drule until you’re ready to kill them.  While dueling, there is no countdown, there is no preparation. The second a weapon is brandished _at_ someone, you have stated your intent to take their life, and they will react.”

“Oh,” she whispered.  “I didn’t… I’m sorry, I pointed it right at you!”

He laughed softly against her, his chest vibrating against her back.

“I know what you meant.  Though, there was a time you would’ve likely meant it,” he added.

“Never, I’ve never had the intention to do mortal harm,” she emphasized.

“Keep your wrist strong but flexible,” he encouraged, helping her hand test the range of motion.

She squirmed as the hand on her hip flexed.

“Keep your body pliable,” he continued as he drew his palm up the length of her torso until she squirmed against him faintly.

The rumble at her back stilled her motions.

“This weapon is designed to act as a fencing device. The pointed head makes ideal for impaling, though, in a pinch, it can strike well enough.  But… practice thrusts,” he whispered to her.  His hand finally left her wrist, leaving her free to wield the weapon, but he stayed very close, his hips very nearly flexing behind hers at the word.

His palms closed on her shoulders, turning her to face the targets that had been set up.

“Balance your weight, and when you’re ready, _strike_.”

His palms released her as he stepped back, Allura deftly courting toward the target dummies, the saber rolling easily in her wrist as she obtained a feel for its weight.

He watched with livid satisfaction as she took an impressive striking shot at the target, and after allowing her a few attempts to gauge the balance and feel of the blade, he stepped forward to offer additional suggestions.

Just as he touched her hand again, Allura turned to face him, an open smile on her features.  He studied her languidly from the steel in her palm to the warrior’s pride on her face.

“Allura,” he began gently. “I-”

“Sire! My Queen!”  A breathless guard burst into the empty Coliseum, catching the attention of the royal couple.

“Are you alright?”  Allura leaned in toward him as she stepped away from her husband, touching the shoulder of the soldier as he struggled to catch his breath.  He gave the woman a surprised look before nodding once.

“I bring a message for you, my Queen,” he explained.  She startled at the title, the territory still unfamiliar to her. “There’s a call waiting for you in the communication center, if you’ll take it.”

“Who is it?”  Lotor’s wary voice spoke up in response.

“It’s the Galaxy Alliance.”


	18. Presage

A heavy beat of silence settled between the three.

“I should go,” Allura murmured, peeling herself away from her husband to look to the messenger.  “I’ve been trying to contact them since the… ah, ceremony.”  She paused by the weapons rack and returned the sword before looking to Lotor.

“I’m sorry this was so short.  I’d… I think I’d like to pursue it more, if you’re alright with it,” she admitted, a blush coloring her cheeks.  A fierce spark flashed behind his eyes and he nodded once in response.

Allura’s eyes swiveled to the messenger.

“Please, would you show me the way?”

“Of course,” he bowed, leading the young ruler toward the incoming call. Lotor followed closely behind, mulling over the situation. 

Something left him uneasy.

* * *

“Marshal Graham,” Allura greeted the man on the other end of the galaxy.  She kept her tone gentle and curious, but her hands trembled slightly in front of her as she watched the large screen.

The communication hub was much grander than the simple terminal she had used directly after the coronation and wedding.  The room was more secure and sported a screen not unlike the one in her own castle.  Her body stood behind a long panel of instruments, hovering near the guard who brought her to the room as she had little hope of using the foreign technology on her own.

“Allura,” he nodded to her.  His eyes snapped to the side of the screen as Lotor joined her in the room, easing himself into a chair a distance from the panel.  He had no intention of participating in the conversation, but neither did he feel inclined to leave Allura unattended.  “I had hoped we might speak in private,” he said carefully.

“I’m afraid that would be difficult – this isn’t a secure line.”

“Must _he_ be here?”

The queen blinked and looked over to Lotor’s reclined position.  She frowned, glancing back to the Marshal.  She opened her mouth to speak, but promptly changed her mind, looking torn between the two men.  Casting one last glance to the Marshal, she graced across the floor to her husband.  Lotor looked up at her, his jaw resting dully on his fist.

“He’s asked for some privacy with me…”  Her words were quiet, the request made of hesitance.  She twisted her fingers nervously in front of her.

“Do you want me to leave?”  His words were equally low, his eyes flashing from Allura to the screen and back again, ascertaining that the feed wasn’t picking up their conversation.

Allura bit down on her bottom lip.

“Or are you asking me because he told you to?”  The irritated king dropped his palm back to his lap, studying Allura carefully.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do,” he promised.  “It’s _him_ that I don’t.  And… given your body language, I would wager you don’t either,” he observed.

Allura shifted uncomfortably in front of him, glancing away from his fierce gaze.

“If you truly want to be alone in this call, then ask me to leave again,” he whispered.  “And I will.  If you want me to stay, say nothing.”

His eyes narrowed when she confirmed his suspicions as her lips pressed together in a thin line, worried eyes flitting back to him.  Lotor nodded once in understanding.

“I apologize, my Beloved, I’m afraid I can’t leave you.  It took far too much work to finally have you at my side to be away from you for even a moment,” he spoke louder, raising the volume of his voice so that the Marshal could hear his words.  “You can plead all you like, but it is no matter.  Were this a call with your home planet, of course I would allow you that, but anything coming through my conference room from the Galaxy Alliance also merits my attention.”  He glanced angrily across the room to the screen before looking back at Allura’s shifting form.

Her eyes widened slightly at the harsh tone in his voice before she caught the glint in his eye. 

_He’s… he’s taking the blame,_ she thought incredulously.  _He’s staying here with me… but not letting the Alliance hold me accountable for it…_ A warmth colored her cheeks from her heart to her chest and she smiled gratefully to him.

Allura exhaled and closed her eyes, schooling her expression before she turned back around to face the transmission once more.  Hardened eyes opened and her jaw tensed as she braced for what had the potential to be a very frightening conversation, given the last time she had spoken with the man.

Returning to the podium, the queen offered the irritated Marshal an apologetic shrug.

“I can’t even get a moment of privacy with you, can I?  Are you _sure_ you meant it when you said you weren’t under his control?” he muttered.  Allura flinched but shook her head once, rallying her courage.

“What did you wish to speak of?”

“We are still eagerly awaiting that visit from you, you know.  We are owed an explanation if you wish to continue ties with us on behalf of Arus.”

Allura nodded her head once.

“I am aware, but as you may or may not recall, I have reached out to you several times to find a moment that works best for both of us – and I have not yet heard a response.  I have had the time to make several trips to Arus – and things are smooth and reaffirmed with them.  I’ve corresponded with my trade partners, and they are absolved of their concerns.  I simply await your availability, Marshal,” she said primly, squaring her shoulders.

“I haven’t heard from you since your… _wedding_ …”

“Oh, but I have spoken with both Lieutenants Raines and Decker about scheduling time with you.  Have you… did you not receive that information?”

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.  After an exhale, he replied.

“Very well.  I apologize for coming across so sharply.  They apparently did not pass along the message.  Could you be in a meeting in two days’ time?”  His eyes softened and he smiled at her gently.

“That would be difficult, it’s over two days alone to travel there.  I could be in attendance in a week,” she admitted.  “But yes, otherwise, I can be there soon.  You and I have much to catch up on.  We can explain-”

“ _We_?”

Allura stilled and Lotor could practically feel the color drain from her face from where he sat reclined in the back of the room.  His ears perked, but his body remained casually uninterested.

“I… I… yes,” she said, her voice falling to a fragile whisper.  “I… I just thought…”

“It probably wouldn’t be _wise_ to bring the Galaxy Alliance’s highest-ranked criminal into the Garrison,” he cautioned before softening.  “Please, come alone.  You and I need to speak in private about the current state of affairs.  We’ll get this sorted out, and once we’re all in understanding, things will be much less tense,” he added gently.

Allura blinked a couple of times, realizing the gravity of what could happen if Lotor were to accompany her to Galaxy Garrison.

“Understood.  I’ll see you in a week.”

The Marshal nodded once and deftly ended the transmission.  Allura turned around to face her husband.

“You can’t go alone,” he said swiftly.  Allura bristled.

“And why not?”

“Because I said so.”  He rose from his seated position and strode across the floor to look down at her intently.  Allura swallowed nervously.

“I’m allowed to travel, you know,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest tensely.  He studied her closely.

“Allura,” he began, his voice caressing a tone of authority.  He stilled when he saw Allura’s pupils dilate slightly.

“I thought I wasn’t your prisoner,” she challenged him, growing frustrated by the recurring theme.  Wild fire blazed in her eyes, daring him to go back on his words.  Lotor did the only thing he could – he exhaled.

Bowing his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose and chuckled darkly.

“No, you are not,” he agreed after a moment, raising his eyes once more.  “But you cannot go alone.”

“I’m far safer with them than I am here,” she replied coldly before softening.  “The Galaxy Alliance has a partnership with Arus.  I’ve been working with them since I was young,” Allura finished.

“Then why were you so afraid of him?”  He nodded to the dark screen behind her.  Allura shifted, the first crack in her stoic expression forming.

“I…” She sighed.  “I don’t like when people yell at me,” she admitted quietly, blushing deeply at her childish reason.  “…I thought he was going to be angrier.” Her expression melted suddenly and her eyes jumped back to his.  “Thank you… for staying.  But you must understand – you cannot go to the capitol of the Galaxy Alliance!  That would be too dangerous for you.  They may not be my enemies, but they are still yours.”

He frowned, frustrated by her sound logic.

“And,” she continued as he opened his mouth with another protest.  “If we took a bunch of guards to protect us, that would be an invasion.  It’s better if I go alone and explain the situation.  It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at the most, once he and I finally sit down to talk.  It will be like on Arus!  By the time you arrived, I had already explained the situation.”

“What if something happens to you?”

“What could happen? I spent a great deal of time with those men, following my father from conferences to treaty signings – I’ve known most of them a great deal of my life and owe them even more.  They sent me the Space Explorers!”  She smiled at him – again.

Lotor was quickly finding that she could wield that expression like a weapon; that it was nearly impossible to deny her while she looked up at him so hopefully.

“You’ll stay in contact?”

“Of course,” she agreed.  Allura sighed and gave him a gentle nod of understanding.  “I know it’s natural to be wary.  I appreciate that – and… I appreciate your concern.  I _am_ going to see the leader of your enemy faction, after all.  But please remember - he is not _my_ enemy.  Don’t worry.”  She blushed, touched by the realization that his possessiveness seemed to come from a place of concern, not control.

“Are you headed back to Arus first?”

Allura looked surprised and considered it.

“No, I don’t think so.  If I go, Keith will want to go as well.  The Marshal made it clear I was to come alone – which makes sense,” she pressed as Lotor began to interrupt her.  “Since he doesn’t know anything, he can’t necessarily assume Arus – and therefore Voltron – are aligned with the Galaxy Alliance.  Bringing Blue Lion – or any lion or Space Explorer – could also come across hostile.”

“And… _is_ Arus still aligned with the Galaxy Alliance,” he murmured, a thread of distaste lacing his question.

“I…”  Allura trailed off, considering the question.  “I suppose that depends on how this meeting goes.  I’ve made a terrible mess of this whole situation.”

“Arus could simply join the Drule Empire.”  His voice was low and smooth, and Allura turned a sharp gaze on him.  Her lack of a quick rebuttal surprised the king, but he didn’t press the issue in light of her honest silence.

“It’s… complicated,” she hedged gently.  “I still have much to sort out, after flipping everything on its head so gracelessly.”

“I don’t think ‘graceless’ could describe anything you do.”

She glanced up at him coyly.

“You weren’t there the first day I tried to fly Blue Lion,” she teased.  “For all my efforts, I couldn’t keep from crashing it.”

“Then you’ve certainly come a long way,” he mused softly.  She shrugged noncommittally, quieting at his praise uncomfortably.

“I’m not very good with combat.  I never have been.”  Her tone turned serious, her eyes averting.  He studied her profile for a moment longer before replying.

“You don’t care for the spotlight, do you?”

“I’m in it as a political practicality,” she answered with a sigh.  “A leader cannot reign from the shadows.”

“But you prefer the company of books, I take it,” Lotor encouraged.

“And a small handful of people,” she replied coyly, her eyes flashing to his.  “Some… admittedly, more than I ever anticipated.”

Pride flared within his chest as he studied the fierce woman before him.  The exhale that left her lips, however, sundered the moment.

“A week,” he murmured.

“Roughly four days of down time to prepare, I’ll need three for travel.”

He nodded and reached for her, touching her shoulder gently.

“I’d like to train with you more before you go,” he explained softly, choosing his words carefully so that the phrase sounded more like a request than a command.

The effort paid off.

Instead of the hellish glint of a challenge in her eyes, a flash of surprise followed quickly by excitement appeared as she nodded vigorously.

“I would like that, as well.  I apologize for departing so swiftly earlier – I was worried if I didn’t take the hail, it would be weeks before I heard from them again, and it truly _has_ been a bit of a loose end that needs tying,” Allura explained weakly, her fingers toying together demurely.

“Understandable,” he conceded. “However,” he trailed off, sliding his fingers down her arm to her own hands, unlacing her palms as he took her right one between his.

Arctic eyes flashed to him curiously, her own digits lacing with his in a way that was still fresh and new.

“We could continue now.”

The flare of ferocity nearly overwhelmed him.

* * *

Allura plopped down on the ground, her back sinking into the coliseum wall as she struggled to catch her breath.

“There’s no way,” she murmured, sweat beading across her skin and dampening her training clothes.

“You’re _vicious_ ,” Lotor praised, his own breath laboring.  He stilled as Allura glanced up at him, her eyes wide and hurt.

“V…vicious?”

The gentle queen blinked as the fanged, proud smile of her husband faded into sincerity at her confusion.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he explained, watching as she gently recovered her stamina.

“I’m not certain I want to be known for being vicious,” she pressed, tossing him a strained look.

The sparring session had felt uneventful; after a few easy blows on the immobile, unguarded dummies,  Lotor had bade her to come at him with her weapon.

With the expert skill of a trained warrior, he had dodged, parried and outright blocked everything she had dispatched, leaving her in an exhausted, frustrated moment.

“But you were, love,” he encouraged.  Her head canted to the side as she tossed him a frustrated glance.

“I didn’t land a single hit – you mapped my every move.  I did _nothing._ ”

Lotor’s eyes glittered at her.

“On the contrary.  In many cases, I only barely moved in time, my dear.  Your speed is inconceivable.  What you may lack in your strength and bloodthirst, you easily… _comfortably,_ make up for in dexterity and pace.  What does it matter how big someone’s shield is if you strike faster than they can move it?”

Allura only blushed in response.  She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully.

“…and how does Zarkon fight, exactly?  That’s… the point of all this, right?  To be able to defend myself?”

Lotor stilled, the hum of his sword silencing as he sheathed it at his side. The smaller, non-lazon sword still rested across Allura’s lap as she watched him.

“My father,” he began, his face surprisingly guarded at the question.  It drew Allura’s attention all the more.

“My father is… an… … _opportunist_ ,” he spoke carefully, considering all he knew of the man.

The Arusian’s brow furrowed.

“How do you fight an opportunist? What does that even mean?”

“He will seek, find and exploit your weaknesses. You must never let him do that.”

Thinking of King Zarkon and the bloodshed and hellfire he had brought upon her planet encouraged Allura into a panic.  As she gasped for air, her hand closed around the grip of the blade she had been holding and the sensation calmed her.

_Steel._

The cold metal in her hand drew her eyes downward and her grip flexed around it, surprised by the comfort a weapon of war brought her.

“I…” She trailed off, the words lost at the explanation of what she was doing settled in.  A moment of silence flickered.

“You’re training me to kill him,” Allura murmured, daring to raise her eyes to meet his.

“I am,” he affirmed without remorse or regret. “And you will succeed.”

Her face contorted into agony and she flung the sword away from her.  The metal clattered on the ground at his feet.

“But I don’t want to do that! I just want to protect myself!”

“I’m not advocating that you assassinate him,” he explained as he bent to pick up the blade.  “If he tries to finish what he started, he won’t play this time.  He’ll be quick and he’ll be lethal, and you will need to be both prepared and able to counter that.”  He flipped the blade in his hand expertly and extended the pommel back to her.

When she hesitated, he continued.

“Or he can stay locked away indefinitely, if you no longer wish to pursue this training.”

Allura’s uncertainty vaporized and her gaze hardened in determination.  Lotor’s fanged grin mirrored her enthusiasm as she grasped the handle of the weapon and drew it from him carefully, rising to her feet.

“Again, then,” she challenged, drawing the weapon before her.  Her stance indicated she was ready, but in proper Drule etiquette, her blade remained pointed to the earth until he had drawn his own.

To her surprise, his saber remained in its sheath at his side and he wordlessly strolled to the weapons rack and produced a training sword.

Allura tilted her head to the side curiously as he tested the weight and drew his thumb along both edges of the blade, testing that they were dull, before pressing into the tip of the blade.  He flipped it twice in his hand and nodded, satisfied with it.

His eyes flashed to hers and they drew their weapons up at the same time.

“Defend yourself,” he commanded; her only warning before he charged her.


	19. Protector

“Let me see it,” she demanded, her voice panicking when he waved her off dismissively.  “Drat you!  How bad is it?”

Allura’s wide eyes flitted from his shoulder to his face and back again.

“It’s fine,” Lotor insisted, his golden eyes narrowing on her.

“I want to see it!”

“Allura,” he nearly growled as she reached for his shoulder clasped under his palm.  She recoiled slightly and her insistence calmed but her worry remained.  “It’s fine,” he reiterated as she eased herself down onto the bed beside him.  He kicked off his footwear swiftly.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, bowing her head.  She exhaled in frustration before following his lead and undid the laces of her own combat boots.  After easing them off, she settled cross-legged on the bed, her lower frame dwarfed by the dark pants.  She fidgeted with her fingers in her lap.

Lotor’s head swiveled to look at her in surprise with her comment.

“Why are you apologizing? You were fierce!”

“I hit you!”  Her wide eyes snapped back up to his, the horror etched plainly in her oceanic gaze.

“That was the _point_ ,” he emphasized in frustration.

“I… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said softly, her cheeks coloring, dropping her eyes back to her hands.  “…should’ve given me a dull sword, too.”

Lotor exhaled before reaching out.  His fingertips caught her chin and tilted her face back toward him, reveling in the unfathomable concern etched into her features.  As a man born to war, the soft expression caught him by surprise: it was a sentiment he never thought he needed, nor wanted, until he saw it in her eyes.

“I am fine,” he affirmed, gentler than before as his thumb brushed across her cheek.

She huffed, biting down on her bottom lip and eyed him with frustration.

“I do not doubt that,” she explained, squirming beneath his molten focus.  She swallowed nervously before continuing.  “…I’d still like to see it,” Allura added, scooting shyly toward him.  “…May I?”

His lips split into a familiar smirk.

“Are you asking to undress me, my dear?”

Allura froze, flushing crimson at the implication.  She opened her mouth to backpedal over her request, but she stilled.  Pressing her lips closed, instead for once, Allura matched him as she had in the coliseum.

“I do believe I am,” she retorted confidently, mirroring his taunt with her own.

Serpentine eyes popped wide briefly before his lashed draped low, eyeing her with a familiar fervor.

“Well,” he rumbled, his voice low and throaty.  “Who am I to deny you that?”

“Show me then,” she nodded toward his palm on his right shoulder.

Wordlessly, he folded his hands in his lap, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I wouldn’t want to cheat you of the luxury of doing so yourself,” he purred in response.  Allura blinked, feeling her flush deepen at the implication.

“Scoundrel,” she murmured, reaching toward him.  Lotor remained perfectly still as she unlatched the red drape and set it aside.  His chest vibrated beneath her palms with his chuckle as she unfastened the hidden clasps of his coat.  The king said nothing as she worked, content to watch her struggle to tame the rising color on her face as she peeled the garment open.

With a delicate touch, she eased his good arm from the sleeve before peeling the fabric away from the wound on his right shoulder.  Her lips pressed together tartly as the impressive gash.

Allura set the tunic near the drape on the bed before returning her gaze to the cut.  It wasn’t deep, but the crimson stain on his skin marked where the bruise to follow would form.

“Now, my turn,” he began, reaching for her only to get his palm batted away.

“No, I’m helping with your injury.  I am not injured,” she chastised him.  “Lotor!”  She smacked his hand away a second time as he insistently tried to peel up her black top.

He laughed darkly and patiently returned his palms to his lap as Allura rose from her perch on the mattress.

She disappeared into the bath, returning after a few moments cradling a bowl of warm water with a towel draped over her arm.  Lotor’s eyes tracked her every movement as she eased herself back down next to him, settling – by choice – so close to his body that their thighs brushed.

Resting the bowl between her knees, she dipped the towel into the water before glancing back to him.  Allura swallowed the knot that formed in her throat, uncertain what the burning look behind his irises meant.

“Here,” she offered leaning toward him.  Delicately, she brushed the cloth over the injury.

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this,” he murmured strangely, his eyes following her hands.

“Cleaning it,” Allura replied, a frown touching at her lips at his confusion. “What do you normally do when you get injured?”  Her eyes flashed up at him as she paused in her ministrations.  “Or do you not normally _get_ injured?”  A grin curled at her lips playfully.

“I don’t normally bother with this,” he nodded back to the cloth in her hands.  Her expression clouded over as she returned to her work.  “Unless it’s life-threatening.”

Her fingertips released the fabric and brushed over the faint scar on the left side of his chest.

“Like this one?”

A heady rumble vibrated under her touch.

“Yes,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Color touched her cheeks once more. He groaned as she delicately traced over it.

“ _Gods below,_ _you’ll be the death of me,_ ” he growled, pressing his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry,” Allura whispered, drawing her hand back to her work.

“Don’t.”  His palm closed around her wrist, stilling her retreat. Curiously, her fist uncurled and pressed back over his skin.

“Will you ever tell me the story?”

The king remained silent, Allura’s palm pressed flush over his bare chest, his own still clutching her there as his heart thrummed beneath her touch.

“My father,” he whispered after what felt like an aeon.

The bowl shattered on the ground as Allura leapt to her feet, spinning to face him in horror.

“ _Zarkon_ did that?  Your own father did _that_ to you?”  Her hands clapped over her gasp as her eyes flitted from the faint scar to his eyes and back again.

He nodded once.

“ _Why?_ ”  Though her voice was barely above a whisper, the vehemence behind the word was evident.  “Was… was it an accident?”

“It was not,” he affirmed darkly.

Allura’s shoulders trembled and she felt tears well in the corners of her eyes.

“No wonder you hate him so,” she murmured.

He exhaled and reached for her.

“Come here,” he encouraged.  “The shadows do not suit your eyes.”

She hesitated a moment before stepping toward him at last allowing his hands to touch her.

“I believe I’ve made a mess on the floor,” she commented as he leaned back on the bed, pulling her with him.

“Leave it,” Lotor commanded gently as she made a motion to pick up the pieces.  With a wary smile, his queen exhaled in surrender, allowing the man to draw her into his embrace.

As Allura began to curl into his side, he stilled her with a touch to her shoulder.

“Wait.”

Her eyebrow arched warily at the order, but she reticently listened, perched next to his reclined frame, her legs curled under her body.  Lotor leisurely folded his arms behind his head and grinned up at her mischievously.  Wordlessly, he nodded to her shirt.

Allura glanced down in confusion.

“What is it?”

He remained quiet when her sapphire gaze returned to his.  His fangs peeked over his lips as his grin only widened, yet he held his silence.

_Waiting._

“I don’t understa-”

She froze as her heart stopped and a delicious shade of crimson bloomed over her face from her nose to her ears.

“Since you’re so excellent at removing my clothing, I thought it advisable if you did your own as well,” he explained wickedly.

Allura stared at him, her skin practically glowing infrared from the heat it radiated.

“You’re not serious,” she muttered, folding her arms across her chest self-consciously.

“Oh, but I am,” he purred deeply.  “Let me watch.”

Allura stared at him stubbornly for a moment before exhaling sharply through her nose in frustration.

She unfurled her arms and grasped at the hem of the garment.

“ _Slowly._ ”

The directive stilled her and sent a delicious vibration down to her stomach, nestling into her abdomen.  Allura’s breath caught in her chest as her heart fluttered briefly before restarting.

A deep, feral noise of approval rumbled across the mattress as she bit down on her decorum and slowly peeled the fabric up her skin.  Popping it off her head and slipping her arms from the sleeves, she glanced over to him uncertainly.

Raw fire flickered behind his gaze as his fingers curled into the sheets beneath him as if restraining himself.  Allura stayed very still, transfixed by the magnetic force of his eyes.  She swallowed, a strange, staccato rhythm sounding behind her ribs.

Like molten gold, his eyes dipped from her face and down to the white lace caging her breasts before slowly rising back up.  He nodded once.

“Next.”

His voice had collapsed to a rough whisper, and Allura’s flush spread down to her collarbone.  She shifted under his heat and bit down on her bottom lip.  Steeling her nerves, she reached behind her back, pausing when he grumbled something.

“Shoulders,” he instructed.

She blinked, overwhelmed by the calefaction resonating in her core.  Despite her propriety, something _thrilling_ shuddered between her thighs at the deep tone of his voice.

Slowly, Allura drew her fingers up and deftly slid the straps from their resting place over her clavicle until they hung at her shoulders.  Leisurely, she folded her palms in her lap once more and watched him intently, as if awaiting further direction.

He groaned her name at her willingness to yield to his influence.

“ _Good._ ”

Allura flushed hot all over at the praise, stunned by the electric charge it sent through her nerves.

“Now,” he encouraged.

The Arusian trembled slightly as she drew her arms up her back and slowly unlatched the clasp behind her.  With a bashful temperament and averted eyes, she slowly peeled away the lace support and couldn’t help the exhale of relief as her ribs sprang free from the cage.

“Gods,” he rasped, taking her in as she sat before him.  She glanced to him shyly as she set the brassier aside.  “Wait.”  He choked on the word as she leaned forward, moving to lie beside him.  At her frown, he explained.  “I want to look at you a little longer.”

“I…” She trailed off, stunned by the directive.  She nodded and sat upright, heat running from her nose to her toes as his eyes roved her half-bare form.

She averted her eyes modestly and just as she bit down on her lip, he moved.

 _Moved_ wasn’t the correct word.

He _launched_ himself at her, unable to restrain his need. 

She cried out in surprise when he collided, knocking her back into the blankets.  She flushed deeply when his lips took hers with a rough ache.

On instinct, her hands knotted in his hair as he bit down on her bottom lip lightly.  She whimpered in response, thighs bucking beneath his touch.

Lotor’s palms flashed to her hips and his thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of her fatigues. His lips relinquished her own only to latch on to her throat.  Lotor released a growl against her pulse as she whimpered.  As he lightly dusted his fangs across her flesh, she arched into him once more.

It was all the invitation he needed.

Allura cried out, surprised to find he had slipped both the pants and her undergarments off in a single motion.  Her body glowed beneath his and the magma in her veins seared away her modesty, leaving only  _need_ in its wake.

His chuckle vibrated against her skin and his hands skirted up her sides with deft reverence. Withdrawing from her throat, the king pressed his lips to her jugular notch, then to the center of her ribs, before trailing his lips serenely down her abdomen.

It wasn’t until he left a kiss on her stomach that she inhaled sharply.

“Lotor, what are you – _oh,_ ” the question was answered not by a word, but by an action.

The Drule’s palms gripped her thighs gently, nudging them apart as his lips captured her boldly.

On instinct, she flinched and squirmed, but he held tight as he teased at her folds, delighting at her reactions.

“Stars,” she hissed out, her thighs squirming as he thrust his tongue into her. “This can’t be-”

“I swear on all that’s evil, if you say _proper_ once more,” he threatened, pausing in his actions to curtail her decency.  “I’ll show you what _truly_ improper is, Allura.  Now. _Look at me_ ,” he commanded. His voice was warm, but still held the stern lilt to it.

His grin spread across his face as she released a whimper and tilted her eyes down to where he lay nestled between her legs.

“Good.”

He quickly returned to his efforts, strumming her sensitivity with decadent grace, his eyes occasionally flashing toward her to make sure she was still watching him.

A soft murmured echoed from her throat as each drive from him promised another level of pleasure.

Allura could feel the latent, repressed heat coiling in her abdomen.  Sparks fluttered across her skin and it wasn’t long before she pressed her eyes closed and tilted her head back, surrendering to the delectable pleasure he pulsed into her.

She allowed her social fetters to fall away as he nudged her higher into the heady moment.  What once were clamped lips, fighting back the urge to make a sound had begun panting and whimpering.

He chuckled softly, the vibration resonating against her, eliciting a cry of surprise.

Blinding heat built and the pressure on her left thigh abated briefly… before a sharp flick over her bundle of nerves nearly sent her over the edge.  White-hot heat blazed and she cried out… only to be left wanting as he leaned back.

Allura gasped at the ceiling above her, dazed and needy, her chest heaving with each breath.

“You are _divine_ ,” he murmured, studying her form.  Utterly bare, thighs spread, panting and on the very edge of climax before him.

“Please,” she begged softly, all hints of her courtly upbringing shattered.

Lotor surged up to her face, catching her cheeks between his palms as he kissed her fully.  His thighs settled between hers and eased her further apart.

“When did you..." she gasped against his lips, the feel of his bare skin on hers catching her by surprise.

“Just now,” he purred, reclaiming her lips as he nudged his arousal against her gently.

She whimpered again, her haze clouding her propriety as she wiggled her hips against him.

“Not fair,” she whispered.

“What is it you would like, dearest?” Lotor’s forehead rested against hers, his silvered hair fanning around them like a curtain.

“You-”

Allura needed not say anything more as her husband hungrily – though not tactlessly – consumed her.  He hesitated a moment, the gesture had been faster than he had intended as his own desire caught him off guard, but his wife seemed only interested in more.

Her fingers tightened through the strands of his hair as she arched up against him, whimpering against his lips desperately.  
  
“Stars, I-”

He growled against her as he moved again, shuddering as she conformed around his cock.  

“You are beautiful,” he breathed against her, gently taking up a rhythm within her.  He delighted in the different noises she made; the soft cries echoing off their bedchamber walls.

Allura started to utter something but it was lost in a moan of pleasure as he sinuously withdrew and pressed into her once more, sending sparks fluttering through her blood.

“So near,” she whispered weakly.

“ _Good_ ,” he praised yet again, sending another decadent coil of heat through her body.  Lotor's crescendo matched hers as his lust had been stirring since she first landed the hit with her blade.

She shifted her weight, wiggling her hips closer to him playfully. The primal rumble that echoed from his chest was not lost to her.

“I cannot-” Allura trembled against the tidal wave of heat.

“ _Don’t._ ”  The last thing he wanted was for her to try and hold herself back – to put someone else first _again,_ as she had always done. 

He cursed suddenly as she cried out, her body clenching around him as she spasmed, his hands leaving her skin briefly so he could bury his nails harmlessly into the sheets on either side of her.

The sudden climax caught him by surprise and edged him of his own in return.

Lotor shook slightly and raised his eyes to the sweating, trembling mass of a decadent wife before him.

Once spent, he withdrew himself and curled around her, drawing her bodily to his.

Allura uttered a protest, either of decorum or of wanting a shower, but he cared for neither as he pulled her close.

Her protests dwindled as she curled against his bare skin and he tugged the sheet up over their bodies.

“How is it?”

Lotor’s eyes flashed open to study her, momentarily confused until she touched his right shoulder.

“It will heal,” he affirmed gently.

Allura seemed to remain quiet as she contemplated the idea before speaking again.

“…will…  will it scar?”  While her voice remained level, the concern did not go unnoticed.

“No.”

She exhaled in relief, allowing her head to rest against his chest at last.

“Good,” she admitted. “I was worried.”

Fire bloomed in his chest at her words.

“As I said,” he reiterated, “you are _magnificent_.”


	20. Phantasm

Allura’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she stirred in her sleep.  Warmth surrounded her frame, soft plush beneath her head, and something firm at her side.  The unerring pillar of strength had become a surprisingly welcome addition to her daily life.

Her lips curled slightly as she became just conscious enough to recognize her husband lying beside her.

_Husband._

With an exhale of amusement, Allura’s mind began to drift back into her dreams, comforted by his presence.  Despite the albeit limited time they had spent together, the reality of her situation still caught her by surprise in delightful ways.  For the first time in years, she truly rested; both her body and mind at ease.

It was a pleasant bliss she wasn’t sure she could be capable of ever taking for granted. What had once been a terrifying warfront had become an unshakable bastion.

Allura snuggled closer to him, reveling in his security and fortitude.

A pang of alarm hit her.

Something was _wrong._

The iron shield was _quivering_.

Allura’s eyes popped wide open without warning as her heart rate escalated.  She couldn’t pinpoint what precisely was off and the confusion frightened her all the more.

She sat up quickly and glanced down to the man beside her.  He slept still – or at least, he appeared to.  His body trembled and his head tossed from one side to the other restlessly.

“Lotor?”  His name fell whispered from her lips as she watched him.  Lotor’s face looked flushed, a beaded sweat littering his skin from his brow to his breast.

“-ura,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened.

“Lotor,” she murmured more firmly, placing her hand on his cheek to still his shifting.  His body relaxed at her touch, an exhale leaving his lips as if in a sigh.  Allura mirrored the sentiment, her body easing as his stilled.

“ ** _No!_** ”

The hoarse cry that echoed off the walls vibrated Allura to her core.  The Drule warrior bolted upright from his rest, nearly toppling his queen over in the process.  As she fell backwards, propping herself up with her elbows behind her, she studied him openly.

Wild, horror-filled eyes stared silently ahead of him, fixated on the wall across the room from their bed.  His breaths came in stunted, ragged and sharp gasps.

Allura held her her own deep in her lungs.

His skin was paler than she had ever seen it before, and as his breath steadied before stopping completely, never had the man exuded more stillness than he did in that moment.  He was practically chiseled from stone, lost to time.

Seconds bled into minutes before she dared move.  It was just a shift of her foot beneath the sheet, but the sound caught his ear.

Lotor’s gaze locked onto her at the noise, a strained exhale flushing out his nose as his breathing restarted.

Allura swallowed as she stared into the shell-shocked, hollow eyes of a man who knew far, far too many ghosts.

“…Lotor?”  She whispered his name once more, her heart fluttering with a weak staccato in her chest.

“You’re here.”

His words made little sense and Allura blinked before regathering her courage.

“Yes, I am.  Where else would I be?”

She sat up fully, curling her legs around her hips.

Lotor studied her face hungrily, drinking in her expression, her lips, her eyes, as if he had never seen her before in his life.

“You’re _safe_ ,” he breathed.

“Of course I’m-”

She could not finish her sentence before her body was lifted from its place on the mattress and she found herself crushed against his naked torso.

“Lotor, what is going on? What-”

His fingers threaded roughly through her hair as he tugged her back down into the sheets, drawing the covers around them.

He said nothing and offered no explanation, simply content to hold her pinned to his body.

She squirmed in an effort to slip from his embrace, but he held fast. His fingers only tightened gently in her hair, holding her still when she tried to turn her face to look to his.  His other palm lay open and powerful on the small of her back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles.

“Rest,” he murmured, his voice low as if he were half asleep once more.

She pouted, remnants of confusion and concern still flickering through her bloodstream, but her husband seemed only interested in holding her.  Allura exhaled in frustration, but eventually yielded to his insistence, allowing her consciousness to drift back to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

* * *

 

“So we aren’t going to speak of it, then?”

Allura flashed a frustrated look across the table between them as she speared a piece of fruit with her utensil.

Lotor sipped on his warm, dark beverage before tearing into a strip of baked meat.

She frowned and set her fork down, glaring at him.

“Lotor,” she insisted.

“There’s nothing to speak of,” he said dismissively before chewing on another bite.

The queen pouted and glared at the meal spread before them.  Disgruntled, she tore a piece of Arusian toast into bite-sized pieces before devouring them.

Allura had been trying to unearth a clear answer about his frighteningly bizarre behavior in the early morning hours, but Lotor had remained silent on the subject, acting as though nothing strange had happened.

“I just… I just want to know more about you, I don’t know why that’s such a terrible-”

“Enough, Allura.”

She stilled, catching the dark edge in his voice.  She sighed and let the subject drop, deferring instead to pushing her food around the plate thoughtfully.  Allura froze and fought back the secretive smile that curled at her lips as an idea struck her.

“Very well,” she said softly.

Lotor stalled in his motion of dipping the bacon in a spiced sauce and slowly raised his eyes to meet her innocent expression.  Allura fought to keep her face gentle and demure, returning his gaze.  She could see the exhaustion both within and beneath his eyes, yet she said nothing.

A single, white brow arched high elegantly.

“And what are you plotting, my dear?”

“Plotting?”  Her cheeks colored brightly, her fingertips covering her lips in surprise.  “Why would I plot anything?”

“I don’t believe I’ve _ever_ seen you surrender that quickly before,” he pointed out.

“Yes, well,” she fumbled as her cheeks colored.  “You don’t want to talk about it so I won’t press it,” she explained carefully.

Lotor’s sharp eyes never left her, his brow still curled up in disbelief.  After a moment of holding her look, daring her to break her façade, his lips curled into a smirk.  A dark chuckle rolled from him and he shook his head once, returning to his food.

“You are quite the warrior, my dear,” he praised.

Allura’s flush darkened as she averted her eyes back to her own meal, grateful for the relief. She huffed thoughtfully.

“Are you prepared to meet with the Alliance?”  His swift shift to work caught her by surprise.  She shrugged indifferently.

“No.”  When he cast her a concerned look, she continued quickly.  “I’m not certain I would ever be.  They’re quite clever, but I have no reason to think it will go less than flawlessly.  They may be cross – but my own team was at first, as well.”

His golden eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.

“Don’t worry,” Allura chirped at his dubious look.  “It will be fine.  It’s completely reasonable for them to be wary right now.”

“I will never trust them,” he cautioned.  “They have infringed on our growth-”

“They have defended innocent planets against your _conquering,_ ” she corrected sharply.  “I do not find that to be such a terrible reputation.”

Lotor’s face darkened as he watched her closely.

“That’s all you see it as,” he mused, more to himself than her.  He shook his head once when Allura’s molten glare softened in an instant at the odd comment he made. 

“Well,” she hesitated, considering the situation before her. “…What else… could it be?”

He stilled in his dining once more.  Golden eyes flickered over her appraisingly.

“It’s a way of life.  We mark our strength by what we do.  We set the footholds for expansion when a planet dies.  If we cannot reach out into the stars and lay the foundation for new planets, then how do we have a place to move to when a planet perishes?”

Allura’s brow furrowed.

“So it’s more about survival?”

“In a way,” he nodded with a lazy grin on his lips.  “It is enjoyable, as well, to prove one’s strength over another.”

Her lips pursed.

“Why could you not lay foundations on uninhabited planets? Surely there must be just as many, if not more.”

He shook his head in response, folding his arms over his chest.

“The problem is, most of our planets are over-populated and we are in a deficit for specific supplies.  Most planets that can be inhabited have been already.  We do not have the resources to terraform an inhospitable planet from the ground up. As it is, the Empire is barely getting by with the resources it can plunder from others.”

Allura folded her hands tightly in her lap and bit the inside of her lip thoughtfully.

“So when you invade other planets - ”

“We take _resources_.  Food.  Gold.  Medicine.  Labor.  The latter has, as you know, ceased recently.”

“Why the labor – slaves, in the first place?”

“We needed to focus our own resources on designing new structures, new medicine, and healing our sick.  We do not have the assets to also build that which we design.  Nor could we afford a wage to pay a willing worker.  We’ve always just taken what we needed, Allura.  No one has ever _given_ to us before. We _tried_ that.”

“You… you did?”

“Millennia ago – even when we were just beginning to spread out from the home planet, minding our own way, we were still attacked and pushed back.  We learned to fight, to defend, and to _take._ ”

She exhaled.

“None of that is the case now,” Allura murmured.  “The Galaxy Alliance is just trying to protect people from losing everything.”

“They’re trying to keep us from feeding our people, from healing our sick, and even from escaping our dying homes.”

“The Galaxy Alliance sent me the Space Explorers.  They protected me from _you._ ”  Allura’s temper hitched slightly and she continued, speaking over the shadow that flickered across his eyes.  “They _saved_ me.  I have no desire to lose my people and my way of life, either!”

She huffed, settling down into her chair once more to stab a berry angrily.

“They saved you from my _father_ ,” he corrected gently.  Allura’s eyes flashed up, stunned to meet the frost behind his expression.

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s true,” she amended gently, her temper deflating.

“I never brought the fire against you that he did,” he continued carefully, watching as she averted her gaze gently.

“You could have.”

“Yes, I could have,” he agreed.

Allura shifted uncomfortably beneath his penetrating gaze.

“…You didn’t.”

A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat.

“And do you know why?”

Allura’s eyes widened as he rose from the table and carefully stalked toward her. She steadied her spine as he stood before her, determined to hold her ground.

The queen gasped when he leaned over, his palms planting on either side of her on the armrests, effectively caging her in her own seat.  Languidly, he leaned closer until his lips brushed her ear, the tendrils of his hair soft against her cheek.

“I meant every word, Allura.  From the first moment I met you, to the Love Bridge, to the altar before my father.  _‘On my honor, you have my word. I will protect you and your people.  There is no other who shall come before you.  I swear it on the stars.’_ Don’t you remember?”

A shiver ran down her spine as she tilted her head back to look up at him.

“The last part…”

“From the vows, yes.  I’d imagine that day was a bit overwhelming for you,” he added with a smirk on his face.

A soft smile graced her lips as she studied the man hovering above her.

“Come here,” she beckoned, letting her arms snake up his back.  Lotor wasted no time greedily accepting her invitation as he closed the distance between them, snaring her lips with his own.

She giggled softly against him, followed by a soft cry of surprise as he peeled down the zipper at the back of her gown.

“For stars’ sake,” she whispered at him sharply, pulling her head away.  “We aren’t in private!”

“And?”  He continued, undaunted, his lips searing her throat instead while she protested.

“And someone could find us!”

Allura made shrill squeak when he lazily traced his fangs up the curve of her neck in the same moment his palms unabashedly dove beneath the neckline of her gown and boldly claimed her breasts.

“Someone – _oh_.”  Her protests of decency melted at the sinful ministrations of his palms against her needy flesh.

Allura arched back into the chair behind her, fully allowing it to support her weight, her hands falling back to the rests.  Her teeth bit down sharply on her bottom lip as she inhaled sharply.

“No,” he chastised gently, his own lips touching where her teeth did.  “Don’t hold back, Allura.  I want to hear every cry you make… if I could make you scream, stars above I’d do it,” he murmured wickedly to her.

She tilted her head back against the support of the chair, allowing a soft whimper to pass her lips as he delicately pinched a taunt nipple.

“That’s _good,_ ” he praised darkly, allowing his knees to sink into the chair’s cushion on either side of her hips.  “Louder,” he whispered against her flesh, one hand fully palming her breast while the other brushed roughly against the sensitive bud.

Allura’s back arched into him with the needy cry that unleashed from her lips.  The proud chuckle from the conqueror quickly shifted into a dangerous, feral growl when a knock sounded on the door.

Lotor raised his eyes from where his lips were buried against Allura’s throat to stare murderously across the room.  He didn’t move from his position pinning the panting, blushing woman beneath his body, but he tilted his jaw up to speak.

“ _What_.”

The single word carried a lethality to it that he didn’t often wield.  When Allura squirmed beneath him, one of his hands left her breast to cup her cheek gently, stilling her struggle.

As the handle began to turn, he called out once more.

“If that door opens, you will die.  I did not grant permission to enter.”

Allura’s panic began to diminish as she stared up at him, realizing he intended to defend her decency – even with death.

“I, well, yes, but the Council is here and… sire?  They’re waiting for you.”

Cossack’s voice echoed nervously from the other side of the door.

“Noted, now, leave,” Lotor commanded.  “Inform the Council I will meet with them when I finish my breakfast.”

“Yes, Sire.”

Lotor remained still as the footsteps retreating sounded before he glanced down to Allura.  She only smiled shyly back up at him.

“Aren’t you finished with your meal?”

Her head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.

“Not quite,” he replied playfully.

“What do you – _Oh!_ ” Allura cried out in surprise as he settled between her knees, his fingers deftly lifting the gown to her thighs.

“I’m going to learn how to make you scream yet, my love,” he swore darkly.

* * *

Allura sat primly beside her husband at the grand table.  Her hands folded and unfolded repeatedly in her lap and she struggled to focus on the conversation unfolding around her.

Her entire body _vibrated._

The evil man her husband was, he had brought her to the edge of ecstasy before he stopped.  Liquid sunlight had settled permanently between her thighs and she chewed her bottom lip sharply in an effort to drive the memory of his tongue from her mind.

She exhaled discreetly.  Every fold of her dress felt like torture, every brush of fabric; even her undergarments felt unwelcome as they caged her mercilessly.

A shiver ran down her spine as his hand captured both of hers in her lap, stilling the fidgeting.  His eyes remained focused on the Councilmember speaking, but the faintest hint of a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

_He knows.  Damn him,_ she thought bitterly.  His words still echoed in her mind as he had whispered them to her, his lips brushing over hers as he spoke, the tormenting taste of her own pleasure on them.

_A bit of your own medicine, my dear – I burn every moment of every day because of you._

Allura found herself in the stunning situation where she simply couldn’t wait for the cursedly boring meeting to end so she could find time with her husband to unleash the ache he had inspired in her.

The queen had hoped with both time and business to focus upon, the desire would fade.

It did not.

The more time that rolled past since he had last touched her, the hotter the flame burned. His hand rested comfortingly in her lap, and just as she began to regain her thoughts and listen to the warlords across the table from her, he traced his thumb up the length of the crease between her thighs over her gown promisingly.

A shock of heat flooded her body and out of the corner of her eye she saw the hint of a fang peek out of a widening, subtle grin.

“…from Arus.”

Allura’s attention snapped across the meeting suddenly as the name of her homeworld drew her from the pyre she burned upon.  Lotor’s teasing stilled as he, too, grew more interested in the conversation.

“Explain that once more, please?”  Lotor’s curious voice was laced with a rough edge – Allura could only wonder if he was struggling in the same manner she was, perhaps yielding him to be just as distracted.

“The people are sick, and the only place we know that has the ingredients for the medicine is Arus,” the man repeated.

“I believe that can be arranged,” Lotor murmured, chancing a glance down to his wife at his side.  Allura could only nod in response, fearful if she opened her lips she might moan instead of speak.

A predatory glint behind his gaze confirmed her suspicions – he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

“We’ll have it taken care of,” he promised the man.

The Drule exhaled in relief and nodded.

“We’ll be in touch,” he explained.

“Next item?”  Lotor’s eyes glanced to the next man at the table and Allura nearly moaned in frustration.  She was certain the heat coiling in her body would cause her to combust before the wretched Council finished its business.

* * *

“Cossack, are we finished?”

Allura didn’t recognize her own voice – it sounded higher in pitch than usual, nearly keening and needy.  The Council had long vacated and the General sat across from the couple.  How she had possibly endured two hours of such glorious torture, she couldn’t fathom.

The Drule blinked and glanced from her to his king and shrugged.

“I guess I could put it all in a memo,” he muttered.

“No, do go on,” Lotor encouraged, chuckling darkly as Allura smacked his shoulder in frustration. “Is something wrong, my dear?  What’s your hurry?”

She glared venomously at his sickeningly innocent expression.  She was practically panting in her dress, ready to tear her own clothes off – and his – and he was positively _gloating_ over it.

“I have to leave to meet the Galaxy Alliance in a day’s time,” she reminded him.  “I know they bring you concern, I thought it best to prepare as much as possible,” she hinted.

“Memo it is, then!” Cossack tapped his palms on the table and rose up. “I’ll send it your way once I finish.  Nothing urgent.”

“Lock the door on your way out, please,” Allura urged.

“Lock it? Sure, but, why?”  He glanced at her.  “Are you feeling alright?  You look like you might have a fever…”

Allura glared at him.

“I’m fine,” she said softly.  “It’s… a private conversation is all,” she hedged carefully, acutely aware of the lethal chuff rolling off the man beside her.

_He’s **enjoying** this._

She scowled at the thought but smiled politely at Cossack.

“Please.”

“Of course,” he murmured, bowing before them as he took his leave.  Allura watched him intently as he locked the door from the inside before pulling it closed behind him.

At the sound of the click, she wheeled upon her husband, but he was quicker.

The queen had barely risen to her feet before her back was flattened against a wall, his hands beneath and supporting her backside as he lifted her.  All propriety cast aside, Allura wrapped her legs around his waist, eager for the touch to ignite her once more.

“You are vile,” she murmured as he kissed her lips urgently.

“And evil,” she whispered as he broke the kiss before assaulting her once more.

“And-”

“Gods below us,” he cursed, his palm openly tracing between her thighs.  “You are _ready,_ ” he praised.

“I’ve been ready for nearly three hours,” she snapped back, a flush hot against her skin.

A dark, evil chuckle rolled through him before he gently set her back down and smoothed her dress out.

“What’s a little more time then?”

Allura wanted to slap the knowing, dark expression off his face.

“What… what is this?  Is this a game?”

She breathed at him incredulously.  Lotor had never been one for restraint before.

“As I said.  Every day.  Every _moment_.”  He leaned in and brushed his lips chastely across her own, lingering just long enough to whisper his promise.  “Waiting is half the fun – besides, I rather like you begging me for a change.”

“ _Please_.” Allura threw all her cards on the table, ignoring her pride.  “I feel like I might burn up!”

“You _do_ have that effect on me,” he acknowledged calmly, letting his hip come to rest against the table, eyeing her flustered form.

With a growl, Allura launched herself at him, crawling into his lap, her gown billowing out around their legs as she settled onto his thighs.  Lotor tried to extract her from her compromising position when she whispered in his ear.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll just go to the shower and attend it myself, without you.”

A deep seated primal noise vibrated from his chest as he quickly inverted their positions, pinning her to the table.

“Well, I can’t allow that, now can I?  Would it be so terrible for you to ask me nicely?”

“Please, Lotor.”

“Please what?”  He tilted his head to the side, a lethal grin across his lips.

“I need you.  _Please._ ”

“Need?”  He quirked a white brow down at her and she snorted in frustration, wiggling her body against his.

“I _want_ you.”

“ _That’s_ more like it.”  His voice rumbled with dark promises.


	21. Patience

“What can I do for you, dearie?”

Haggar’s gnarled hands folded properly in front of her as she sat across the work table from Allura.  The witch’s lair had become oddly familiar to the queen as her eyes skirted the room.  A frown touched at her face when her eyes fell upon the pink cauldron in the distance.

_So long ago, and yet… not at all._

The crone turned to look in the direction that held Allura’s gaze.

“About that…”

The queen shook her head once, a smile chasing away her frown.

“I gather that it was Lotor’s idea?”

“He only meant to warm you.  But, as I’ve said before.  He’s a bit of an idiot.”

Allura’s cheeks reddened, vague recollections of the heat and need that had flushed through her body.  The memory of the utter _hunger_ beneath her skin stoked her own fire, independent of the magical machinations at work.  She swallowed heavily as Haggar’s glowing eyes narrowed in a manner indicative of an eyebrow raise.

“It worked that well, did it?”

Allura coughed in response, folding and unfolding her hands nervously.

“I’d like to know a bit more about Lotor,” she hedged carefully, quickly shifting the topic away from herself.

“If you ever wanted more of it…”

“ _Haggar_.”

A cackle echoed through the room as the older woman dropped the subject at the gentle yet firm tone of the Arusian.

“Yes, yes.  Lotor.  And what, specifically, would you like to know?”

The crone was clever and Allura’s lips curled up in approval.  She considered her question carefully before decided on raw honesty.

“I’d… I’d like to know about his nightmares,” Allura explained openly.  “About what frightens him.”

“Looking for a weakness in him?  Very Drule of you, dear.”

Her skin flushed hot at the implication.

“No, no!  That’s not actually it at all,” she fluttered.  “I don’t see fear as a weakness, really.  It’s only natural.”

Silence settled between them as Haggar appraised the young queen.

“It can be for us,” she explained after a moment.  “Why do you want to know that which alarms the king, if not to use it against him.”

“…I …I wish to comfort him.  And… he,” she trailed off and averted her eyes as she sighed deeply.  “I do not think he will ever tell me himself.”

“What makes you think he fears anything at all?”

“It keeps him awake at night,” she replied quietly, glancing back to the witch.  She held nothing back, allowing her expression to be open and unguarded in a way she rarely did with the Drules.  “Look, I know it must sound a bit… unusual to you, but he has… effectively… saved me from my own nightmares with helping Arus and I…. I don’t fear his father any longer.” She burned hot at the admission, but Allura hoped the honestly would get her some of Haggar’s.  “I want to return that semblance of security to him.”

The woman’s eyes studied Allura intently, as if seeing a side to her she hadn’t before.  Seconds ticked into minutes and to Allura, the minutes began to feel like hours before Haggar eventually answered her with a single word, the queen passing her judgement.

“Lora.”

Allura blinked.

She stepped back from the lab table she had been leaning against, studying the witch in surprise.

“What’s…”

“Not what,” Haggar murmured, a strange, edged tone to her voice.  “ _Who._ ”  Something haunted the woman; was that _sorrow_ in her words?  The name held a lilt of reverence.

“Who is Lora?”

The queen’s palms came together in front of her chest when Haggar took her time, once more, in answering her question.

Haggar stepped back from the table and slowly made her way around the structure, meandering toward a plush chair in the corner, a crystal ball settled on a small stand in front of it.

With practiced slowness, she sank into the chair and reached for the ball, drawing the sphere into her lap between her palms.

Heel clicks marked Allura’s tentative approach, oceanic eyes fixated on the witch.

“Take a seat, dear.  It’s… it’s a story,” she murmured.  Allura glanced around and reached for a cushioned seat, drawing it across from the witch before she settled onto it, crossing her legs beneath her gown.

The queen folded her palms in her lap and fixed her attention across the crystal ball.

“Haggar.  Who is Lora?”

Her golden eyes flashed once as a dark palm roved over the sphere, drawing a soft light from its center.

“Lora _was_ Lotor’s mother.”

Haggar didn’t bother looking at the younger woman at the sound of the sharp gasp that echoed out.  She continued to study the divination tool, smoothing out the image of a tall blond woman.

Wordlessly, she held the ball out toward Allura, her own eyes lingering on the soft face of a time long-past.

“Haggar!  She’s… she’s _human_!”

A smile twitched at her lips for the first time.

“Are you telling me that’s news to you?”

“I… _yes!_   I had no idea!”

“He never told you that?”  Haggar lifted her eyes to meet the shocked Arusian’s expression.

“No… he never… no,” she affirmed.

“He’s…” She trailed off, placing a palm to her face.  “He’s an idiot.  I thought that would’ve been one of the first things he ever told you.”

“Why is that?”

“Would you not have stopped to listen to his words a little more closely had you known?”

Allura felt her cheeks darken at the words, her own shame creeping in at her quick judgement of the man.

“…possibly,” she admitted.  “All those times I just assumed he was like Zarkon, I never stopped to consider…”

“What the other half was?”

Allura met her gaze wordlessly, only nodding once in affirmation.

Haggar remained silent, an eerie, calmness settling between the two women as Allura mulled over the striking fact.

“Why would Lora scare Lotor?”

A soft cackle emanated from the crone.

“ _She_ doesn’t.  He’s afraid _you’ll_ meet her same fate.”

Allura’s heart stilled as something heavy and unspoken settled between them.  Something was just out of her reach, a bit of knowledge that felt undeniably important, yet elusive.

“You’re not going to tell me anymore than that, are you?”

Haggar grinned appreciatively at the Arusian.

“It is not my story to tell.”

Allura exhaled in frustration but nodded once.

“I understand; thank you, Haggar.”

“What?”

The queen stilled in the middle of rising from her seated position at the witch’s sharp confusion.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”

The older woman shook her cowled head once, laughing softly to herself as she recovered her shock.

“Nothing, dear.   That’s just not something these old ears have heard often.  …At all.”

“What isn’t?”

Allura’s fingers curled in the fabric of the midnight-colored stole around her shoulders, adjusting the garment and brushing out her gown.

“‘Thank you’,” Haggar explained.

Allura blinked, freezing in her motion.

“Oh.”

The words were a whisper that fell from her lips, yet another facet to the strange culture she had entombed herself inside.

“They don’t… no, I suppose not,” Allura began, catching herself before she finished the question.

Haggar chuckled softly before setting aside the crystal ball and rising to her feet.  She patted Allura on the shoulder in an oddly comforting manner.

“How can I learn more about Lotor’s past if he won’t talk to me about it?”  Tundra-colored eyes fixed on the crone as she walked beside her toward the door to the laboratory.

Allura gave a polite nod to Sir Krugil’s head in passing, earning her another appreciative laugh from the witch.

“Why, my dear, you’ll have to find someone else who knows!”

Allura frowned at the woman.

“You know, but you won’t tell me,” she accused, planting her palms on her hips irritably.  Haggar’s golden eyes narrowed slightly in amusement.

“No, but I’m not the only one who knows, now am I?”

Allura’s cheeks flushed.

“Lotor certainly won’t tell me, he acts like nothing happened!  I tried, Haggar,” she insisted.

“And you can’t think of anyone else who is less… conscientious… of Lotor’s privacy?  You’re a clever girl, you’ll sort it out.”

Haggar patted her arm before turning to head back inside her workspace, leaving a stunned Allura standing outside her door.

“Who-”

She froze.

_Oh._

* * *

Allura stood perfectly still, back erect and arms folded tightly in front of her.  Tension laced through her very being from her bones to her flesh, her eyes hard and face a stoic mask.

_Yield nothing._

A thin line ran the length of her mouth, her jaw clenched; her fortitude the mark of thirty minutes’ worth of pacing and corralling her courage into a single, fierce front.

She had taken all the steps she could think of to dominate the moment.  As she stared up into the judging eyes of the man across from her, she reminded herself of the mantra coursing through her mind.

_Act Drule._

Allura waited.  She wanted to dive into the questions she held, to tackle her curiosity outright but she understood if she yielded her control of the situation before she had earned his attention, she would never get her answers.

Seconds to minutes.

He studied her.  He _judged_ her.  His arms remained folded across his chest, regal brow high as he stared down his nose at the tiny human.

One minute became five.

_Hold._

Allura steadied her nerves, waiting for him to speak first.  At last, her titanic will was rewarded.

“Well?”

Zarkon’s irritated snap echoed across the holding cell as it passed unhindered through the special glass.

_Think like a Drule._

Allura gave a second’s pause before answering him in a controlled, haughty tone.

“That is not how you address your Queen.”

“Oh, ho,” he murmured, golden eyes widening in surprise.  “That’s new.”

Her heart skipped a beat; she recognized that while venom laced the words, there was an undercurrent of appreciation behind it. Keeping her face impassive, she only tilted her head up a degree, the cold aloofness remaining.

“Very well, I’ll play your little game, _Your Highness._ What brings you here?”

Allura allowed the smirk to curl languidly at the corners of her lips as she delayed answering him immediately.  Giving in too quickly to his question would yield him power over the conversation.

_Dominate._

“Information.”

It was the only answer she had given since she stepped into the room and raised the screen between them, allowing the dethroned monarch to mark her presence.

“Information, eh?  Where’s that idiot son of mine?  Does he even know you’re here?”

Zarkon’s gaze swept from her and took in the room behind her.  As he eyed the shadows before coming to the surprising conclusion that Allura was alone, she remained perfectly still and completely silent.

She prayed he couldn’t hear how sharply her heart hammered in her chest or how fiercely the blood coursed through her veins.  The frigid shieldwall was a fragile illusion, barely containing the panicked anxiety, chaos and excitement behind it.

At her silence, he scowled down at the girl.

“What information?”

Allura’s smile grew slightly as she just tilted her head to the side knowingly.  Seconds passed before Zarkon cursed, realizing her intent.

“You’re really pushing this game of yours, aren’t you?  Fine.  What can I tell you, _Your Highness_?”

Another thrum of excitement flushed through her.  _I’m winning,_ she thought, forcing herself to keep calm. She had waffled woefully on the best way to approach the subject to obtain what she needed.  She understood the moment she tipped her hand, he could hold the knowledge hostage.

The queen decided the best approach was the direct approach.

_Just like a Drule._

“Tell me about Lora.”

The raw, authentic shock that bloomed over the aged man’s face looked out of place compared to the usual scowl of contempt or sinister smile he wore.  It became painfully obvious that Allura had caught him by surprise with the name.

Silence bled between them as Zarkon struggled to regroup his thoughts, Allura remaining casually aloof and patient in the interim.

“About… Lora?  My consort?”

Allura did not flinch at the title, forcing herself to remain still and silent.

“What about her?”  Zarkon shook his head once, baffled by the name he had not heard in years.

“What happened to her?”

Understanding dawned over his face as his shocked expression quickly vanished.  An wicked smile curled at his lips, his fangs shimmering in the dim light.

“Did Lotor put you up to this?”

Allura felt her knees weaken at the truly evil look he pinned her with, but she forced her resolve onward.

_Stay strong._

The man covered the distance between himself and the glass.  Allura swallowed, quickly regretting standing so close to her side of the pane, but she refused to step back.

He cast a towering shadow over her from the ceiling light behind him, mere inches between their bodies, most of which was occupied by the clear barrier.

“Do you really want to know what happened to her?”

Allura could feel her fingernails digging into her arms, but she did not unfurl them and she did not back away.  Her gaze hardened and she stared him down, undaunted.

“Yes.”

He laughed darkly, his voice dropping in volume, creating a chilling, intimate atmosphere between them.

“Are you sure, _Your Highness_?”

Every time he used her title, he sounded more sarcastic and less sincere than the time before.  A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck at the dark undercurrent.  She took her time to reply, waiting to be certain her voice wouldn’t quiver.

“Yes.”

The disturbing grin that widened across his face alarmed her.  He leaned closer until his face was just above the level of hers, and Allura got the impression he would’ve whispered his answer into her ear if he could.

“ _I killed her_.”

Her shield shattered.

With a cry of horror, Allura leapt back from the glass, staring up at him as he laughed loudly, her eyes wide in shock.

“You didn’t!”

“Not so brave now, are you?”

“How could you?!”

“What did I care?  She was just one more of you _Arusians_ \- standing up to try and protect her people.  Offering herself in exchange for them.  She made the mistake of trying to step into the politics of _my_ empire.  A habit your kind seem to make with frequency, it seems…”  He trailed off, eyeing the crown glinting on her head with pure distaste.

“You’re a _monster_ ,” she breathed.

“And you’re pathetic,” he spat back.  “Just like her.  Do you think Lotor won’t tire of you eventually?  Do you think you can entertain his interest indefinitely?”

She backed away from him as he continued, his delight at her abhorrence sickening her stomach.

“Maybe he’ll kill _you_ in front of your own son, someday.”

“ _You did it in front of him!?_ ” Allura’s fear was quickly quelled by her fury.  Even Zarkon looked taken aback by the sudden hostility of the female.

“I made a point,” he said casually with a calculated coldness.  “She raised her voice; I strangled her on the spot.”

His eyes glinted at something and his grin widened.

“But then again… You’re already familiar with that feeling, aren’t you?”

She gasped, Allura realizing her hands had unconsciously reached up to touch her throat in a protective gesture, remembering the way he had nearly taken her own life.

“She didn’t last nearly as long as you did – I’ll give you that.  In fact-”

Allura had heard enough.  Strength be damned, she turned in a flurry of fabric and bolted for the door, her hands clamped over her ears.  Even through her palms, she could hear his rolling, dark laughter.

She wheeled down the hall and collapsed into a corner.  There was no place in all the castle that Allura felt would put enough distance between them.  She gasped and clutching her sides, doubling over.

Nausea threatened to spill her insides.  Heat flushed her skin even as a cold sweat drenched her.  Her head swam and she felt unsteady on her feet, the ground shifting beneath her.

“Oh stars,” she whispered over and over, trying to catch her breath.  The hauntingly horrified look Lotor had bestowed on her after Zarkon’s assault suddenly made sense.

_He’d seen it before._

“No wonder…”

Lotor’s fury at his father was no longer just a shade of a culture she couldn’t understand.  His resentment was not merely a personality quirk.

“Allura?”

She glanced up with a gasp, meeting the alarmed expression of her husband.  His eyes were wide as he studied her doubled form, braced against the wall for support. 

“What happened?  What’s wrong?”

He was at her side in a moment.  A second passed where Allura briefly debated schooling her expression and remaining strong, but she abandoned the thought the moment his hands touched her hips.

Lotor meant to draw her to his chest, to check for injuries, but as his fingertips touched her, he found her own arms snaking around his back and clinging to him.  Allura _trembled_ , allowing all the nervousness and pent-up adrenaline to release.

“Allura, what happened?  Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, still hiding her face against the fabric of his drape.

“Come, let’s go somewhere secluded,” he urged, trying to nudge her from the open hallway.  As he took a step, Allura’s legs buckled against him, her fear and exhaustion finally manifesting.

A strange noise echoed from his throat and the next thing Allura knew, he had swept his arm behind her knees and she was cradled against his chest, whisked down the hall.

Allura blinked, suddenly finding herself dropping gently onto the edge of their bed.

“Lotor?  _What are you-_ ”

She gasped suddenly as the man peeled off her midnight drape and began unzipping the back of her dress.

He stilled, her gown half open.

Lotor knelt before her on the floor, bringing his face to her eye level.  A strange amount of concern warped his expression as his pupils danced over every line in her face.  Two soft, gloved hands caged her cheeks and he spoke quietly and patiently.

“I need to look for injuries, Allura.  You’re not coherent at the moment and I don’t know what’s happened.”

She stared at him owlishly for a moment and shook her head once.  A weak smile laced her lips as her hands reached up, grasping his gently and pulling them into her lap.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with more certainty than she had possessed before.  When he arched a white brow at her, her smile widened. “Really.”

His eyes dropped from her face and looked over her shoulders.

“No one has caused you harm?”

“No.”

The reaffirmation seemed to settle him.

“What happened.”

He came to ease himself on the bed beside her.  Allura tossed him a pointed look and turned her back to him.

“Shall I take it off completely?”

“ _Lotor.”_

With a noise of amusement, he drew the clasp of her dress closed once more.  She sat before him, fidgeting nervously, her fingertips lacing and unlacing in her lap.

“Who has troubled you?  What has happened?”

Something hedged the darkness.

An uneasiness settled in her core, but there was also an inevitability she could not avoid.

A truth she should have never known that he sought to keep from her.

She frowned as his palm touched her cheek.

“Allura.”

“I…  I may have done something terrible… I might have done something you would hate me for, but I believe I did it for the right reasons.”

“Allura, I could never hate you.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced away, Zarkon’s words humming in her memory.

_Do you think Lotor won’t tire of you eventually?_

What if he was right?

“What has happened?”

His alarm was growing exponentially.

Allura’s demure fingers curled around his palm and she offered him a weak smile.

“It really isn’t anything.”

“But it is.  Allura; you are the one who said we shouldn’t keep secrets, remember?”

Her lips pursed slightly but she reined her temper.

“Yes but, you still have some, don’t you?”

His weight shifted at the accusation, but his face did not give anything away.

“Allura.”

Her name sang on his lips and she could only smile.

“It’s alright,” she affirmed, reaching for him again.  “Lay beside me?  I leave in a day’s time. I shouldn’t be gone long, but I find I’ve grown accustomed to your company,” she finished with a playful smile.

His arms caged around her, and it took only a matter of irreverent minutes before she was curled against his bare chest, her dress casually tossed aside.

“Why though,” she murmured against him, allowing his palms to trail up her back until one tangled with her hair and the other settled back in the well above her hips.

“Why what?”

“Why are things so… explicit for you?”  She tilted her head to the side, glancing up to him as he drew the sheets over her form.

“Do you find this behavior irreverent between a husband and his wife?”

Allura felt her cheeks color as she settled in beside him.

“Does the touch of flesh appall you so?”

“No,” she murmured without thinking.

She felt his exhale beneath her head as he sighed, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns against her bare skin.

“We… do not often go without our armor, Allura,” hedged gently.  “As a warfaring society, we cannot afford that.”

She curled onto her chest, rising up on her elbows to regard him more fully as he embellished upon his culture.

“How do you mean?”

Lotor had no reply, but instead drew her head gently down to his chest once more, reveling in the warmth of her skin against his as Allura revered the trust he offered her.

_Perhaps Zarkon really is wrong, after all._

The queen could feel her faculties fading as she settled into her suite of security, much information unprocessed from her exhausting day.  She realized the discussion could wait, and for the time being, she took solace in his presence as she allowed her mind to relax into rest.


	22. Prevarication

“You’re hovering.”

Lotor grumbled as Allura tossed him a teasing smile over her shoulder.  She deftly and carefully folded up one of her gowns, tucking it into her duffel bag.

She stood before him in her traditional flight suit, making the final preparations for her trip.

“Have you packed enough?”

The king was at her side in a moment, peering into the small bag.

“Lotor, I’m only going to be there a day at the most.  Most of the time I spend will be travel time.  I’ll land, talk with them, perhaps rest a night there and then be on my way back.  I don’t need to take much.”

“But is this enough?”

“You’re worrying – I never thought I’d see that,” she murmured, amused.  His brow drew together in a scowl at the accusation and he stepped away in frustration.

Allura watched him with warm amusement as he paced around their chambers before pausing before the dresser and opened the top drawer.

Wordlessly, he withdrew something and moved over to where her open bag lay on their bed.  Allura stepped back and watched as he paused in front of the bed and turned to face her.

In his palms rested a sheathed dagger with a leather-wrapped hilt.

“What…”  She trailed off, eyeing the weapon as he presented it to her.  When she hesitated, he pulled the dagger from the scabbard and presented it to her, hilt first, the blade pointed at his sternum.

“It won’t handle like the sword, it’s too light.  This will be for close-range, single strikes.   Keep it on you, but keep it hidden. If the time comes to use it, stab, twist, and pull.  You should be able to retain the blade.  If, for whatever reason, the target won’t release the blade, then leave it and run.  Your safety is more important.  I’d rather you return to me than the steel.”  He slid the weapon back into its protective housing and placed it into her open palms.

Allura’s fingers curled around it instinctively, a blush flaring across her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She knelt on the ground, discreetly sliding the small dagger into the inside of her boot along her calf, out of the line of sight.

“I hope that I don’t need it,” she said with a smile.  “I don’t anticipate that I will.”

“I hope for that as well,” he admitted.

Allura hummed as she finished tucking a backup flight suit into her bag before zipping it closed after tossing necessary toiletries inside for personal hygiene.

“Wait,” he murmured, the familiar, commanding tone returning to his voice.

Allura cast him a bemused look, the once-frightening phrase now harboring more comfort than animosity.

“Yes?” 

“What happened yesterday?”

The queen stilled at his question, the garment she was in the process of returning to a hanger fell from her hands.  Allura blinked, bending to grasp the fabric.  When she didn’t reply, he pressed her.

“Do not keep things from me.”

Wildfire eyes flashed to his as her digits tightened through the soft material.

“Do not threaten me,” she replied tensely.

“What are you hiding, Allura?”

She turned to face him as he stepped toward her, his palms wrapping around her forearms.  Wordlessly, they traced the contours of her skin before deftly taking the extra gown from her hold and smoothing it out, returning it to its place in the closet.

“What are _you_ hiding?”

“I’ve told you everything,” he grumbled softly as he faced her again.

Allura’s fingertips laced together in a nervous knot before her.

“But you haven’t,” she insisted.  “You… your dreams…”

A frosty shiver rolled up her spine at the cold look he bestowed her.

“Those are not things you need to worry about.”

Fire met frost as her temper erupted.

“You cannot dare lay claim to my secrets when you still keep your own from me!”

“Allura, something – _someone_ – frightened you and I must know who it was!”

She shook her head, casting him a worried look.

“Please, let it go,” she murmured, trying to diffuse his temper.

“Allura,” he insisted grasping her hands.

Her brow creased and she shook her head.

“Please – I don’t…”

Her eyes raised to meet his as he came toward her, his arms encircling her torso.

“Tell me.”

A moment’s hesitation passed between them, Allura’s mind racing at a thousand miles per hour. _I can’t._ Her eyes searched his worriedly.  _I’m not supposed to know._

“Allura.”

_No, he has to say it first…_

“Tell me your secrets,” she murmured, attempting to smile coyly up at him.

“I have none, darling, but it appears that you do.”

A wicked grin split his lips, his fangs peeking through as his fingers curled tighter around her.

“None that you don’t have.”

A hard flash glinted in his eyes and she wondered briefly if he already knew.

“ _Tell me._ ”

The words came our fiercer than he had intended and Allura flinched at the growl behind his words.

“Please,” she whispered again, trying to step away.  “I need to leave shortly, let’s not…”

“What. Aren’t. You. Saying.”

Sweat broke out across her back and her forehead, her heart raced in overtime as their interaction backtracked.  He took a tone to his voice that was reminiscent their earliest encounters – dances of dominance and power, of struggles for control.

She attempted to step away from him, to cower from the fury he unleashed, adrenaline coursing through her veins as her heart betrayed her, hammering faster – pumping the chemical through her system with expert flawlessness.

“Please don’t…”  Her whispered words were lost to his ears as he physically hauled her closer, lowering her face to hers.

“Tell. Me.”

Allura’s anxiety stilled in her chest, her heart and resolve freezing.

_He won’t let up._

_He won’t let me go._

Old memories of panic, recollections of chase and efforts to evade surfaced.

_Face it head on._

“Lora.”

Allura could’ve sworn the temperature in the room dropped forty degrees.  The fingers curling around her muscles flexed, tightening their hold.

_He won’t relent._

Her eyes narrowed in determination, face to face with her lethal adversary.

_He won't yield._

“I know about Lora.”

His breath stilled in his chest as he fixed her with a horrifyingly dangerous look.  Allura could practically see the nightmares that flared to life behind his gaze.  She watched in horror as they consumed his expression; his eyes warmed with adoration before freezing over in abject terror, hardening into an angry, impenetrable shield.

“How did you-”

“It doesn’t matter how.  I needed to know… I _wanted_ to help-”

Allura reached for him, hoping to touch his cheek but he stilled the motion with a tightening of his grasp on her.

“You want too much.”

Her hand hovered in the air before them, a moment of rejected affection frozen between them.

The whisper of his voice was a tone she had never heard before and her eyes widened.

At their initial betrothal, Allura had feared for her virtue and her boundaries.  For the first time since she and Lotor had met across a battlefield, Allura feared for her _life_.

“Lotor.  I’m sorry, I just wanted to offer you-”

“Taunts?  You seek my weakness, my _shame_ and hold it over me?  Is that why you wouldn’t tell me what it was, Allura? You were _ashamed_ of what I am?”

“What? Not at all! I-”

She winced when his fingers curled around her jaw, yanking her gaze to his unkindly.

“Look upon me with those sweet eyes of yours, Beloved. Recognize the monster you married.”

“Don’t say that about yourself!”

“In the eyes of my own race, I am weak and inferior, and you have cursed yourself with this lot in life,” he murmured darkly, his fingers clenching tighter.

“Let go!”

He growled, his eyes narrowing on her.

“My father made it a point to remind me of that and I have spent my entire life _rising above it._ To prove him **_wrong_**.”

She winced.

“You’re not weak!”

Allura tugged against his firm grip on her, her own panic escalating.

“ _I couldn’t protect her, Allura!_ ”

Wild, wide golden eyes homed in on her, the feline pupils dilated with his fury – was that panic she saw behind the front?

“Lotor, please! You’re _hurting_ me!”

He froze, her words sinking in.

“Allura,” he murmured her name, releasing her, blinking in shock as if realizing where he was.

She backed away from him slowly, drawing her palms to her chest.

“I… I have to go, you know…” she murmured, her breath ragged and eyes wide.

“Allura.”

He stepped toward her, only to still as she matched his pace with an equal step backwards.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her hands still cradled against her heartspace.  “I shouldn’t have asked.  I should have let you keep your secrets.  I just… I wanted to know – I wanted to make it better… I don’t know how I could have, but…” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, his rage quieting in her passivity.

“Allura,” he whispered, studying her frightened form.  “I didn’t…”

“It’s… it’s alright.  You’re right to be upset.  I… I overstepped.”  She reached out to him, her trembling fingertips brushing his clenched fist.  “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t-”

“I need to go, or I’ll be late for the meeting.  It’s a long way to travel,” she murmured, touching her fingertips to his lips.  “I promise we will talk about it when I return – if you want.  Or we can forget it ever happened – whichever you prefer.”

His eyes narrowed on her form and he exhaled, nodding once.

“Will you stay in touch?”

Allura smiled and nodded, allowing him to step closer.

“Yes, of course.”

His hands remained curled at his side, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.

Allura shouldered the bag she had been packing before leaning up and into him, brushing her lips against his.

“It won’t take long,” she promised, threading her hand through his hair before resting her palm against his cheek.

He exhaled against her and Allura stepped back, turning to make her way to the hangar, the air heavy between them.

* * *

The queen sat delicately in the pilot’s seat of her Arusian cruiser, the silence of space echoing around her.  The hum of the engine kept her company as the sleek, otherwise nondescript craft made its way along the trajectory to the headquarters on Earth.

Her mood remained somber as she reflected on the last conversation she had had with her husband – while his anger had terrified her, something deep and unsettling had flickered in his gaze.

Lotor had been _afraid._

Her brow furrowed as her fingers tapped across the console before leaning back in her seat.

“I pushed him too far,” she murmured softly.  “It wasn’t just a secret, it was _personal._ ”

She frowned.

“Allura?”

Her blue eyes popped wide as she glanced to the console before leaning over, pressing the communication line.

“I’m here,” she replied, a smile curling across her lips at the familiar voice of her husband.

“How’s the trip?”

“I’m only two hours in – but, it’s going fine,” she replied, a laugh quivering beneath her words.  “You needn’t check on me every moment,” she chastised him gently.

Allura could practically _hear_ the footfalls of the pacing, nervous warlord.

“Well.  Just checking.”

His voice was edged with concern.

“I’ll let you know when I arrive,” she replied gently.

Silence responded before Lotor exhaled.

“Very well.”

The feed cut, leaving Allura to her thoughts once more.

She leaned back in the chair, allowing her head to rest on the cushion, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Double-checking that her ship was on the confirmed course and flipping the switch to sound an alarm if anything deviated, she allowed her eyelids to droop closed.

_Exhaustion._

She exhaled, surrendering to the call for rest; the journey would be tediously long, and she desired to sleep through as much of it as possible.

* * *

“Princess!  Er, Queen?”

Space Marshall Graham nodded before her as she stepped from her cockpit.  Allura turned a weary gaze on the man.  She shrugged delicately.

“I’ve never cared much for titles, Allura will do – as it always has,” she supplied gently.

She stood stiffly beside the cruiser, eyeing the head and heart of the Galaxy Alliance with a warm wariness. The elderly man had always been a close friend and even wartime confidant.

She recalled roaming the halls of the fortification as a child, smiling up at her father and the Marshall as they spoke in hushed murmurs about some crisis or other affliction.

Yet the man stood before her and his expression was bereft of anything she could read.  Did he hate her?  Did he understand her predicament?  Did he even wish to speak with her?

“Allura,” he acknowledged with a bow.  “I am pleased you were able to make it, I know the journey is long from… from Planet Doom,” he murmured, a strange tone lacing his voice with the last words.

“It’s nearly as long from Arus,” she affirmed optimistically.  “What is the plan – shall we sit down and chat or…?”

“Let’s get you settled, we had a suite prepared for you.”

Allura felt a blush stain her cheeks as she fell into step behind the man.

“Oh, that’s terribly kind of you, yes, a moment to breathe would be welcome,” she agreed.  “I can change into something more appropriate.”  Her palms brushed down the front of her flight suit.  _And bathe,_ she added mentally.

With her overnight bag shouldered on her back, she followed behind the Marshal.  While he seemed appropriately standoffish without knowing the circumstances of her betrothal, he was still the genuine, gentle man she had always known.

He paused near a door, palming open the door code, giving way to an expansive suite inside.  Allura sighed in delight.

“We shall meet soon – take your time to do what you need to in the meantime,” he added as the door swished closed between them.

The Arusian exhaled once more, allowing her bag to drop from her fingertips and hit the floor.  With a flounce, she danced to the bed and flopped over on it, reveling in the sensation of a proper mattress beneath her tired body.

With a grin, she keyed a familiar frequency on the communicator hub in the room.

“Allura.”

Lotor’s familiar voice echoed in the room.

“I made it here!”

There was a tense exhale on the other end of the communicator before an earthy chuckle sounded.

“I knew you would.  And they’ve greeted you properly?”

“Yes, things are going well, I have a private suite and I’ll be meeting with them shortly.”

“They brought you jewelry, silks and ornaments befitting a queen, I trust?”

Allura stilled, unsure if the warlord were making a jest or was entirely serious.

“Ah…”

“Allura… while you aren’t undeserving of such finery, I did not anticipate it,” he murmured.  She could see the grin curl at his lips in her mind’s eye.

“I still find myself unsure when you’re teasing and when you’re not,” she admitted, laughter dancing in her voice.  “Everything well there?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

A strange, surreal sensation thrummed through her; Allura realized she was inquiring as to the wellbeing of the Drule and their Empire; the implication being ‘home’.

_They are mine, now, to protect._

“Things are well,” she affirmed, as if sensing the strain on the other end of the com-line.  Lotor exhaled.

“I’ll see you soon?”

It was one of the few questions he asked her, and she could only giggle softly.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Until then.”

Allura couldn’t fight the blossoming smile on her face as the feed cut.  Delicately, she rose to her feet and pressed herself to the bath, determined to shower and restore her semblance of humanity after days of travel.

Despite the ambiguous schedule the Marshal had offered her, she graciously indulged in the time he afforded her to rest and recover.

She turned the hot water on, stepping into the tiled corner of the room, basking as the steaming water cleansed her of sweat and worry.

Her flightsuit fell away as she moved beneath the water.

The task before her would be tricky; as someone that the Galaxy Alliance marked as a friend, she would be negotiating on behalf of someone they recognized as an enemy.

“This will either be more difficult than anything I’ve ever seen – or easier than I expected,” she murmured, a smile curling at her lips, finding herself undaunted by the potential challenge.  Regardless the outcome, she was ready to meet the hurdle directly with all the willpower and determination she could muster.

Allura shut off the water and deftly toweled off before stepping back out into her chambers.

Quickly dressing in her usual gown, she added the adornments of the crown and drape that her newest station afforded her.

After folding her flightsuit up and tucking it into her travel bag with the dagger Lotor had given her, she twirled elegantly before a mirror.

Satisfied she was dressed the part of a proper diplomat, Allura graced across the ground and tapped the touchpad by her door.

She blinked.

She touched the keypad a second time.

Still, the door did not yield.

Confusion bloomed in her chest and her brow furrowed.  Allura’s fingertips flew over the communications panel, hailing the command center.

“Princess Allura.”

The Marshall’s voice echoed over the intercom.

A strange sensation stilled in her chest.  The queen couldn’t tell if it was the fact the man insisted on using titles but refused to acknowledge her Drulish rank, if it was the tone itself – or if it was the fact that he answered, as if he were awaiting the call.

“I…  I cannot seem to open my door,” she admitted sheepishly.  “Could you advise-”

“Your door is not programmed to open from the inside,” he cut her off sharply.

Allura swallowed, her anxiety bubbling just beneath her level of control.

“However shall I sit down with you if my door is broken?”

“It is not broken.”

_Ice.  
_

Her breathing hitched as sweat broke out along her back.

“Marshal.”

“Princes Allura of Arus. As a Drule prisoner of war, you fall under the Section Eight mandate for handling hostage negotiation.  You are in our charge now, and will be cared for in our fullest capacity.  He will _not_ harm you again.”

“Prisoner of – _wait!_ ”  Allura’s fingertips dug into the steel housing the intercom. “You don’t understand!  I’m not anyone’s prisoner!”

“We understand your confusion, and we will do our best to restore both your mind and Arus back to you.  In the meantime, please try and get some rest.”

As the open line cut to static, Allura could only hear the pounding of her heart.  It echoed in her throat, in her ears and in all her veins.

Raspy, breathless gasps left her body as confusion melted into abhorrent understanding.

_No._

The sound that tore from her lips was ragged and unholy, a curse and a prayer in a single word as rage clashed with terror.

“ _No!_ ”


	23. Provision

Lotor rubbed his palms over his face before flipping to the next page in the document in front of him.

He stared at the proposal from the Vermilion quadrant, requesting medical supplies in exchange for a cease-fire with the Drule-occupied planets in the region.

A dry smile curled at his lips at the irony.

A Galaxy Alliance planet had reached out to him, as the ruler of the Drule Empire, to _negotiate_.

His fingertips tapped on the black marble desk thoughtfully.

The king exhaled, turning the page back to re-read the request more closely.

While she’d only been gone mere hours, he had found it increasingly difficult to focus on work before him.

“This can wait,” he growled, pushing the parchment aside.

His gloved hand lingered on the document.

_After all, Allura would like to see this; the first step toward unifying the galaxy._

His golden eyes danced across the text, words such as _peace_ , _civility_ and _diplomacy_ leaping off the page and catching his attention.

_Everything she’s ever wanted._

A fierce grin flashed across his lips.   The pride of a warrior pounded through his veins, an exhale leaving his lungs.

Her absence, however, still left him uneasy.  He found himself wanting for her warmth and craving her compassion.  As the king sat alone in his study, surrounded by tomes, displays of weapons, ornaments from conquest and trinkets that spoke of galactic riches, he felt… _alone._

All the steel and all the blood from the conquered and subjugated planets couldn’t take the place of her presence.  No amount of adrenaline from battlefield victories could compare to the softness of her touch and the fragility of her trust.

_A true warmaiden._

After all she had seen, all she had endured, she still stood strong and proud.  Despite fear, she sought truth.

Lotor sighed.

_I should have told her sooner._

He rubbed his palms over his face, uncomfortable with the unfinished conversation hovering between them.

_As soon as she returns._

He raised his eyes to look across the study, his eyes settling on the darkened landscape in the distance outside the window.

_I will make this right._

Had Allura been with him, she would have been sitting across from him, chatting gleefully about the request, giggling about a cultural phenomenon she found fascinating, or offering playful banter in one form or another.

He could _hear_ her unspoken whispers – he could _see_ her pacing before the hearth.

Her laughter, her fury, her concern – she would be _worried_ about the planets involved in the cease-fire request.

He cursed darkly, standing up abruptly from his desk.

“She haunts me,” he murmured, grasping the royal cloak from the back of the chair and swirling it over his shoulders.

Without another thought, he fled the study, burdened by the emptiness it held, troubled by the shadows in the corners of the room. 

* * *

“Someone’s on edge,” Haggar mused, as Lotor paced across her lair.  She crone seemed untroubled by his disheveled demeanor, almost as though she expected it.

“Witch.”  His words carried venom, but Haggar allowed the empty threat to hang in the air between them.  She didn’t answer him, nor rise to the challenge.

She looked back to her work.

“Anything?”

Haggar stilled.

Lotor paused in his pacing, glancing over to where Haggar hovered over her crystal ball.  Glowing, golden eyes raised to meet the tightly-strung king. 

“…Sire?”

“From Earth,” he clarified. His gaze swept over her rough hands, fingers curled and brushing the luminescent sphere.  He returned his attention to her face just in time to catch the bemused curl of her lips.

"A bit distressed, are we, my King?"

"Haggar."

“That question is better served to your command post, not my workspace,” she chastised gently.  “You know I cannot divine through to Earth.  My magic weakens the further I extend out.  The Galaxy Alliance is too far.”

His voice was a low growl, threatening her with his short patience.  He refused to verbally acknowledge how correct she was.  Moreover, any official – or unofficial – communication wouldn’t be sent via magic, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit how unsettling it was to sit alone, waiting for the next call.

She frowned, unimpressed by his temper.

“…Allura has only been on the planet a few hours.  She’s likely in the meeting with them right now, if not resting from her travels.”

The crone lowered her eyes back to her work in front of her.

“But what if something is wrong?”

Haggar grew quiet once more in her divining, a frustration flowing through her.  She resigned herself to the fact that she would accomplish little of her work with the uneasy presence in her laboratory.

“Didn’t you _just_ speak with her?”

“Well.  _Yes._   What’s your point?”

A moment of silence passed between them as she studied him carefully.

“What’s _really_ troubling you, Sire?”

“Haggar.”

The witch tilted her head to the side in response.  Her expression softened marginally at his frustration.

“Did you tell her about my mother?”

The crone’s lips curled slightly and she lowered her mystic gaze back to her divining glass.

“I gave you my word I wouldn’t speak her history to anyone, didn’t I?”

“You betrayed-”

“Careful, Sire.  Such accusations have consequences.  I did not betray your confidence.  I may have mentioned her existence, but I said nothing else to Allura.”

“Then how in the six hells did she-”

His complexion froze as he eyed the witch.

Haggar kept her lowered her gaze on her crystal ball in response as Lotor's eyes swiveled to the door, his breath caught in his chest.

"She didn't...."

"Wouldn't she?"

The king looked back to his confidant and advisor, but the woman wouldn't meet his expression.

" _He didn't._ "

Haggar said nothing in response - there was little she could have said to comfort the man's turmoil as he stormed from her lair.

* * *

Lotor nearly kicked open the door in his impatience for the automatic lock.

“Father!” 

His cry echoed off the walls, earning the former king’s attention before Lotor even crossed to the room to the panel that raised the screen between them.

The younger of the two swallowed apprehensively as he met the lazy, lethal look of the old man.

He sat, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his hands as he stared across the room.

Lotor strode across the chamber, pausing to stop before the glass.  With little hesitance, he punched in the code to the lock.

The metal door swished open at his command and Lotor covered the ground between the gateway and his father.

“You told her about what you did to Mother, _didn_ _’_ _t you_?!”

His voice was even and smooth, but the volatile threat behind it was unmistakable.

Lotor’s hand thrust out, grasping his father by the collar of his dressings, but before he could hoist the man to his feet, a swift, clawed hand caught him by surprise.

The Drule King felt the pressure of the glass slam into his back and press the air from his lungs in a forced exhale.

Before he could process what was happening, he felt the ground touch his thighs and he blinked.

“You-”

“It was only a matter of time before you would come for me, my impatient son.  Some things never change.  Your flower of a wife wilts as easily as she always has, and you rush to your own unmaking just as you’ve always done.”

Zarkon’s words echoed ominously off the chamber as he slowly rose to his feet, staring mercilessly down at his son.

Stripped of his weapons and his royal garments, Zarkon’s looks befitted a fighter in a gladiator ring, not a former monarch.

The strength that rippled through his body as he rose to his full height, as his clawed fingers curled into fists, as his eyes narrowed on his wayward son all reminded the current king of what it meant to be Drule.

_Strength before Honor._

_Power before Loyalty._

“Win at all costs,” Lotor murmured, finishing the mantra in his head aloud as he rose to his feet, massaging the place on his abdomen where his father had connected a brutal strike.

“My idiot son traipses in after rolling in the riches of an empire – he forgets his place,” Zarkon sneered darkly.

The soft footfalls of the older man reminded Lotor of memories long forgotten.

With a snarl, his body shifted into a battle stance.

“You killed my mother.”

“And? She was weak.  Inferior.  Just like-”

Zarkon never finished his train of thought.

With no warning, his nimble son moved across the room, directing a single, striking blow to his stomach, returning the favor Lotor hadn’t even seen coming.  As he slid onto his back across the ground, his reptilian eyes opened to a lazon saber pointed at his throat.

“Finish your sentence, I _dare_ you, Father.”

“You can’t do anything, you idiot, our-”

Lotor’s sword hummed closer, stilling the speech from the aging man.

“Our culture’s norms can be rewritten, our legacies redefined.  _I will not hesitate._ ”

Zarkon said nothing, eyeing the exchange of power between them; a situation he had never found himself in before.  The blazing sword of the youth was dangerously close to his throat and for the first time, he held his tongue in a semblance of self-preservation.

“You say she’s weak,” he continued, kneeling onto his fallen father, letting his joint press into the soft flesh of his stomach.  “She’s the strongest I’ve ever met.  She’s stronger than _you._ ”

“How dare-”

Zarkon’s words melted into a curse when Lotor shifted his weight, driving more of his strength into the man’s gut.

“She’s withstood everything you’ve ever thrown at her.  She’s lost it all, and now that the smoke has cleared, which of you two are standing on top of the entire Drule Empire?”

The former monarch’s lips tightened in apprehension as the sword drew closer.

“ _She is._ ”

Lotor’s answer was a low hiss, a promise of protection to his wife, and a testament to the gods below them of her strength and fortitude.

“You are alive today because of _her_.”

“And whose fault is that,” he replied sharply, earning him a backhand across the face from Lotor’s free hand.

“In your arrogance and your prejudgment of both her and her people, she has usurped your power.”

Silence fell between them and Lotor’s feline eyes narrowed dangerously as he stepped back.

“Just as Mother did.”

“Your mother-”

“ _Lora._ She had a name,” he growled at the man in fury.

Zarkon’s lips twitched as he slowly sat up, eyeing the drawn saber still at his son’s side.

“Your mother did no such thing.”

Fury lit the young king’s eyes at both the blatant disregard of the name and the supposition the man made.

“She made me,” he murmured lowly.

“And see where that’s gotten us?”

Lotor’s eyes flashed with one last promise of death.

“Yes.  You’re in a cell, and I’ve taken an Arusian bride of my own.  She _dominates_ you – and your Empire.  You have nothing, old man.”

An earthy growl slipped past Zarkon’s lips as he exhaled.

“And where is she now?  I find it strange that after all your _failures_ , your pretty wife is not at your side.”

The muscle in Lotor’s palm twitched at the same time the one in his jaw did.

It took every ounce of strength not to run the insufferable former tyrant through with his blade, but he refrained.

_Allura wouldn_ _’_ _t like it._

“Elsewhere,” he replied quietly, not at all inclined to surrender any more information on the topic.

“But not here,” he mused darkly at his son.

“ _Enough._ ”

Zarkon’s dark laugh echoed around the chamber.

“Did she leave you?  Did you finally scare her away?” His voice lowered and his smirk widened.  “Does she fear you’ll do the _same thing I did_?”

The roar that echoed from Lotor could be felt in the hallway outside the prison chambers and reverberated down the corridor.

The door to Zarkon’s cell slammed with a dangerous finality before the entry to the room closed as well, Lotor killing all lights in the foyer on the way out.

The ancient Drule sat in the perfect darkness, his feline irises adjusting to the lack of light. 

A chuckle escaped his lips.

“How interesting,” he mused to himself.

* * *

Doors slammed apart as Lotor’s fingers wedged between the hydraulic doors and pulled them apart before they could open on their own.

“Well?”

Wildfire eyes honed on his guardsmen who had all frozen to stare at their king as he came into the control hub of his empire.

“Has she called again yet?”

“No,” one brave guard replied warily.

A growl emanated from his chest.

“Nothing at all?”

“No, not since her first and last hail to you, Sire,” he replied.

Lotor huffed.

“Hail the Alliance, then.”

“Sire?”

“Hail them.  I want to speak with someone.  Just to confirm everything is going according to plan.”

Two guards exchanged looks before setting up the frequency to initiate the hail.

The static sound of the signal on empty airwaves echoed in the room for several seconds before it clicked.

Lotor swallowed.

He hadn’t expected them to answer.

“Galaxy Garrison.”

A uniformed human soldier appeared on the other end of the viewing screen, looking wholly out of place and marginally uneasy to be the one tasked with receiving the call.

“Greetings.”

“Oh, you’re… …just a moment, please, I’ll see if I can find someone… uh… more suitable,” the private stammered.

A smirk curled at the king’s lips when his station and rank preceded him.

Shuffling could be heard on the Galaxy Alliance side of the call before static buzzed over the transmission.  Within seconds, the Marshal himself appeared on the other end.

“Apologies, we weren’t expecting you,” he murmured quietly.

The background behind the man seemed to indicate a secure line to the man speaking in his office.

“Indeed, it was a rather… unplanned... call,” he admitted carefully.

“What can I do for you, King Lotor?”

“I was curious if Allura had made it safely,” he hedged.  While he was very well aware she had landed and already contacted him once, it wasn’t a fact he wanted to yield right away.

“Of course.  We finished meeting with her about an hour ago – has she… not contacted you about it?”

Lotor shot a guarded look across his control room and the technicians all shrugged in response.

“No,” he replied carefully.

“Interesting,” he said carefully.

“Why is that interesting?  Perhaps she’s simply exhaust-”

“I’ll cut to the point. She’s sought Asylum, King Lotor.”

The word stunned the Drule.

“A… Asylum?”

Ice laced his heart at the word; he didn’t need to have the militaristic metrics of it laid out before him.

“Asylum.  She has no intention of returning to you.  She fears for her life and safety, and since Arus is a member of the Galaxy Alliance, we are bidden to honor her request to protect her. …From you.”

The ground tilted beneath his feet.

He had known things had been left on shaky terms between himself and his queen when she had left.  He had recognized his mistake.  He had never dreamed she would leave.

“Let me speak with her, I have much to explain,” he said suddenly.

“She specifically requested we not allow you to communicate with her.  We’ll be returning her to Arus shortly; and fortifying the planet.  She was, after all, afraid for her people above and beyond all else, and we have guaranteed both her safety and theirs.”

“Let me speak with her!”

The Drulish rage flared in his veins as the Galaxy Alliance defied him.

“No, I’m afraid we cannot.  We promised her that much, I apologize.  I can, however, take a message to her if that suits you.”

“Tell her… …tell her…” He trailed off, realizing that he had never felt such panic before in his entire life.

_Allura._

She was, once more, out of his grasp, and further than she had ever been.

_I frightened her._

What could he tell her?  What desperate message could he craft to coax his wife to contact him?

“Tell her... ‘Please explain’,” he said at last.

He was reeling from the situation and uncertain what specifically had spooked Allura.  Was it his anger?  Was it his mother?  Was she frightened that he would do the same?

_Was Father right?_

The ice in his chest lanced deeper at the very thought.

“We’ll see what we can do.”

He nodded numbly, masking his obvious discomfort at the situation when the call ended.

After checking that the transmission was truly terminated, he cried out in fury, slamming his fist down on the console.

The metal warped and protested under his cruelty and Lotor stilled suddenly, eyeing the crater beneath his curled palm.

Wordlessly, he unwrapped his fingers and pulled back from the divot in the metal.

“Destruction,” he murmured.

Without another word, he left the control room to retire to his chambers.

* * *

“It’s what I am,” he purred lazily.

Between his fingers, the stem of his third goblet of wine rested.

His body was settled into the ornate throne dais he had called his own in times past.  Feline eyes skimmed across an empty antechamber, devoid of the dancers who used to entertain him.

He finished the glass and poured himself another – the act of refilling just as foreign to him.

“I destroy things.”

He sipped more from the drink, and slowly his faculties fell away.

What had once been a joyous room filled with exuberant, willing entertainment had fallen into a quiet solitude; he no longer accepted requests from those wishing to help him pass the time.

He had no longer needed it.

In a moment of boldness, a coalescing of years of calculations, he had attained the one thing that had alluded him the most.

_And yet she fought_.

Allura had resisted his charms, his lures, his indulgences.

She had only responded to his honesty in the end.

_Are you surprised she ran?_

A dark, bitter laugh echoed off the empty room.

He had tried.

He had rearranged the structure of the Empire to suite her more moralistic tendencies.  He had _wanted_ to accommodate her softer needs and desires.

Lotor sipped again at the wine.

It wasn’t enough.

It had never been enough.

It would never have been enough.

_"You built this marriage on a barter – and a threat.  Those aren’t things you do to someone you love.  Those are things you do to someone you want.”_

It would never be enough.

_He_ would never be enough.

He glanced up hopefully as one of his guards entered the room.

“Has she sent a response?”

The soldier faltered.

“No,” he said carefully, watching the king’s face fall.

Silence descended for a moment.

“The Vermillion quadrant’s request is awaiting your answer,” he hedged gently.  “We have to decide what we want to do.   Shall we help the Alliance?”

A cold spike twisted in his heart.

He had hoped to share this news with Allura; to revel in the ideology that both their factions could truly interact with each other.  And yet…

The warlord inside him wanted to say no.  To bring fire down upon the Alliance, upon Arus, upon _her._

“Yes,” he murmured quietly.

The guard blinked.

“Sire? You mean to help them?  Even after…?”

“Yes.”

A heavy sensation settled in the war room.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” Lotor added quietly.


	24. Perfidy

Allura’s eyes popped open to the sound of murmurs outside her door.  Her entire body grew still as she strained her ears to catch any recognizable utterance.

She sat defiantly in the center of her bed, back resting against the wall, the plush throw blanket draped around her shoulders regally.

_Regal._

She snorted in frustration.

The thin, narrow windows near the top of her room allowed the moonlight to filter in.  Even if she had the strength to shatter the ballistic glass, the frames were far too small for her to slip out.

The Garrison held true to its name; a bastille of strength, resisting her attempts to breach the walls.

Allura was flush with pride as her eyes narrowed at the utter chaos her room was in.

An upturned table lay in the center of the floor, one of the legs warped at a strange angle.  First utilized as a step ladder to inspect the integrity of the glass panes as well as the rest of the ceiling, it had promptly been kicked over in frustration.

The only thing between her and weaponizing one of the table legs was her own inability to rip the military-grade steel apart.

Allura sniffed, confident Lotor would’ve been proud of the attempt nonetheless.

_If only he would return the call_ _…_

She’d left three separate messages for him.  The first had been immediately after her quarantine, calmly relaying the situation and explaining her plan to smooth it over.

She’d expected him to call back.

She had braced for his fury at the Alliance, for his aggravating taunt that he had been correct in the end.

Allura had run through the scenario a thousand times in her mind, carefully planning how to deescalate what would have been a highly volatile situation.

_But he hadn't._

She frowned, her gaze sliding to the silver pod of a communicator she had brought with her.  It was the only scrap of material in the room that she had resisted cannibalizing in her efforts to secure some kind of armament beyond the small blade she clutched so dearly to her side.

It was too important to tear apart.

_He might yet return my hail._

When several hours had rolled by without a reply – she had tried again.  Her second message was more nervous and uncertain - and far less diplomatic.  Without any new updates, she had simply asked him to hail her when he could.

She couldn’t recall what she had left for him in her third message – it had been at the height of her panic attack.  It was in that same haze of crippling anxiety that a switch had flipped in her mind.

The table was promptly flipped and she had wrestled with it until she had been too exhausted to move.

She glanced up as the light in the room warmed.

“Dawn already?”

She could feel the fatigue settle in her bones – had they expected her to actually be able to sleep?

“ _…_ _not safe._ _”_

_“_ _Please, let me speak with her._ _”_

Allura’s eyes widened as the voices hummed louder.  Her heart flipped in her chest and she drew her knees closer to her torso.

“It’s jammed from the other side.”

Her spine stiffened as the clarity of the words betrayed the proximity of the speaker.

“Take this, you can let us know when you’re finished.”

“Thank you.”

_That voice._

It took every strain of her being to resist the urge to sit up straight.  She forced herself to remain relaxed, her expression devoid of any emotion.

_Yield nothing_ , she reminded herself.

Her muscles spasmed as she fought the urge to bolt across the room as the door opened.  She crushed her desire to race into the arms of the familiar face and to seek refuge from someone who would listen to her.

“Little cousin,” Romelle murmured, the door sliding closed behind her.  She hesitated in the threshold, her eyes skimming the destruction strewn about the room.

“Romelle,” Allura breathed, trying to control her relief.

“It’s good to see you.”

She couldn’t resist.  A friendly face at last.

The blanket fluttered to the mattress, abandoned as Allura flung it from her shoulders.

Romelle’s arms wrapped around Allura’s shoulders as the younger of the two collided with her.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” she murmured against her friend.  “No one will listen to me, please, see if you can speak with the Marshal.  I can explain!”

Romelle’s hands rubbed soothing circles against Allura’s back as she listened to the woman.

“They’re only trying to help,” she replied gently.

Allura grew still as a vein of cold stuttered her heart.

“W…what?”

Warily, Allura raised her eyes to meet her cousin’s.  Foreign concern graced the Polluxian’s expression and she studied Allura closely, as if she didn’t recognize her.

“We’re helping you.  You took an unfathomable sacrifice upon your shoulders to save so many people – myself included.  We simply couldn’t let that tyrant get away with it all.”

The wind rushed out of her lungs and she stumbled back.

_Stars, no._

“Romelle, it’s not what you think, I swear it.”

“He’s done something to you, I just know it.  He’s evil, Allura.  You would have never spoken in his defense before.  What has that terrible witch done to you?”

Allura frowned.

“It’s… it’s so much more complicated than -”

Allura grew very still as a piece of a puzzle clicked into place.

“Romelle,” she paused, testing her words gently.  “How do you know about the arrangement Lotor and I made? …That… that was what I had intended to explain here.”

Something flashed over her expression.

“Sven and I have been at the Castle of Lions frequently.  With Blue Lion still on Arus, they needed a pilot.  The boys filled me in.”

“When did that happen? Does the Galaxy Alliance know?  If they already know the story, then what is the problem? Why am I locked in here like an animal?”

“For your own protection.”

“Protection from _what?_ ”  Allura’s temper elevated slightly.

Romelle’s eyes skirted the room, falling on the mangled table.

“You must admit; your behavior has become a bit… _Drulish_.”

Fire flashed through her.

“I’m responding appropriately to a hostile situation and I-”

True fear iced her fury as Romelle flinched back from Allura’s outburst and the latter caught sight of a small, silver and yellow disk nestled in Romelle’s left palm.

“Why do you have a sedation patch with you?”

Allura’s whispers trembled as she backed away from her cousin, unable to take her eyes off the tiny yet terrifying device.

“Just for safety.”

“Do you mean to subdue me then?”

Her eyes ripped from the dangerous implement to study her cousin – the person she had hoped more than any other would hear her.

The person she had risked everything for.

The person who had orchestrated the entire meeting with the Galaxy Alliance, seemingly.

“Why,” she whispered. “Just… why?”

“The Galaxy Alliance sees your marriage to Prince Lotor-”

“King,” Allura corrected tartly.

A smile curled at Romelle’s lips.

“My point stands… you’ve become more like _him_.  You’re even standing like a soldier right now, not like a princess.”

Allura’s eyes hardened as steel settled in her spine.  She stared across the room, her eyes flickering between the disk in Romelle’s hand and her face, waiting.

“If the Galaxy Alliance was already made aware of the terms of my arrangement, why did I need to come out here in the first place?  I have nothing to explain – and yet they seem to worry that I’ve defected somehow, or that I cannot be trusted.”

Her brow creased as she mulled through the information.

“Do the boys know I’m here?”  Her eyes flashed suddenly.

Romelle hesitated briefly.

“Yes,” she replied carefully.

“And they’re… _alright_ with this?”

A frown marred Allura’s face.  While she had been away from home for quite a while, the queen had been under the impression that the Voltron Force had supported her in her effort for peace.

_Keith, especially,_ she thought. The last conversation she had had with the commander had ended on a supportive note.   Or so she had thought.

“Have they been planning this from the beginning?  Doesn’t anyone believe me?”

“We believe you, Allura, we just don’t believe _him._ ”

“Then why do you come to visit me with a weapon that can incapacitate me?”

Romelle’s eyes flickered once more to the destroyed table leg in response, causing Allura to flush.

“Yes, well – I demand to be released from this, I am not a prisoner and shouldn’t be confined like one!”

“Quarantine,” Romelle corrected her gently.  “Just until we have time to sort out everything that’s happened.”

“But you _know_ what’s happened, if you’ve spoken with the pilots then you have the full story!  There is no manipulation, nor any magic at work. I’ve done everything of my own will and choice,” she pleaded with her cousin.

“That witch of his didn’t give you any special potions or anything that would alter your perception?”

Allura’s eyes widened as she inhaled sharply, catching Romelle’s attention.

“So she _has_ done something.”

“No, it’s not what you think.  It was a misunderstanding.  All of this is just a misunderstanding.  Romelle!”

Allura lunged after the girl as her cousin returned to the door, tapping on it twice.

The queen froze when Romelle held the disk out in front of her, ready to attach it to Allura’s skin to administer the sedative.

“Everything’s going to be alright, little cousin.  Your war is over now.  You can rest,” she said, a soft, almost sad expression on her face as she backed out of the room when the door opened.

Allura’s eyes flickered over the two armed guardsmen waiting on the other side.

“No, this is wrong,” Allura begged.

“It will be alright,” she reassured her before nodding to one of the men.  He keyed a code in the hallway and the door slid shut once more, locking in place.

Allura covered the distance to the door and clawed at the mangled touch pad on her end, digging her nails into the crevice where the door met the wall, trying to slide the heavy barrier open manually.

“Romelle!  Romelle come back! _Please!_ ”

Her fists banged against the metal loudly.

“He’s going to come looking for me!  He’s going to be angry!”

Allura gasped and shook her head in frustration when no sound came back to her.

She cursed, barely even noticing the word that fell from her lips was Drulish in origin; a slip in profanity she had procured from her husband.

Grasping the communicator, she settled onto her bed and feverishly reached out once more to Lotor.

_Please answer me._

The soft hum of the device as it connected to Castle Doom lifted her spirits.

_Please don’t still be angry with me._

A frown touched her lips as no answer greeted her, yet again.

Her lips dropped open to leave a message, but she stilled.  What was left to say to him?  She’d left three others, none of which had encouraged his attention or earned her his interest.

_Could he really, truly be so angry with me over this?  Is it irreparable?_

Lotor had seemed calmer – more worried about her journey than all else, both as she was leaving, and even as she arrived.  He had been quick to take her very first call.  And yet…

Silence hummed from the device in her lap, her hands palms curled around the backside of it.

Lotor had never been want for words – he had often said too many, but never too few.  The restless night she had spent in her cell – she could call it little else, despite its luxuries – had been illuminating in several ways.

She realized she had never spent a night away from the man, and what had once been a terrifying proposition – lying beside a Drulish warlord was a frightening prospect for woman of decency – had become a comfort without her awareness.

It was only in his absence, without his arm around her torso, or his lips whispering in her ear, without his taunting smirk from across the room or even the flash of heat in his eyes, that she realized she _missed_ him.  Badly.

A trembling exhale fell from her lips and she reached up to wipe the tears budding in the corners of her eyes as she settled on the last message to leave him, the only thing that had been left unsaid for far, far too long.

“I love you.”

* * *

Lotor exhaled.

He sat slumped in his chair, his elbow propped up on the armrest and his temple lazily braced against his fist.

A chilling ache settled in his chest.

His head _pounded_.

Eyeing the empty container of wine sitting nearby, it took little wondering to guess the culprit.  How much he had consumed, he couldn’t remember, but he knew sleep did not come for him in the end, as much as he had hoped it would.

“Uh, sire?”

Lotor’s eyes swiveled across the room as Cossack peered in uneasily.

A low rumble came from his chest as he attempted to answer the man, but the dryness in his throat stole his words, leaving just a ragged growl.

Cossack’s eyes skimmed the room, noting the emptiness.

When the man said nothing else, the commander stepped into the chamber, letting the door slide closed behind him.

Footfalls echoed around the room as he approached the weary warlord.

“What.”

“You’re just… sitting in here?”

“What does it matter.”

“You’re all by yourself.”

Cossack looked around the empty room, his eyes courting the ample bottles.

“I am.”

Bitterness laced the king’s voice and Cossack could only frown at the strange behavior.  He crossed his hands over his chest lightly, letting his gaze drop to his toe as he dug the pointed tip of his boot into the ground.

“She’s probably back on Arus by now, you know.”

Lotor raised his head, slowly shifting in his chair to straighten his back as his arm fell into his lap.

“And?”

_Gods below_ he ached.  Resting the evening away in his chair had been a terrible idea, but the pain from the stiffness was welcome against his numbness.

“Well, like, you could go.  See her there.  Sort this out… right?”

“It doesn’t sound like she would like that.”

Cossack sighed, flummoxed by the odd mood his king was in.  Hesitantly, he offered some seemingly obvious insight.

“Well… I mean.  …that’s never stopped you before, has it?”

Lotor blinked, the words settling into his core at the truth of his statement.

His white brow creased.

“At the very least, you could still talk to her?”

Lotor frowned at his commander.

A grumble rolled from his chest once more and with an exhausted noise, he slowly pressed himself up into a standing position.

Cracks popped down his spine as he stretched, Cossack’s brow flying up at the stiffness in his king, but he said nothing.

With a deep salute, he turned and left, leaving Lotor to his own devices.  There was little else he could offer his ruler.

Lotor sighed once more as the door closed and he carefully made his way to the command center.

* * *

“Go ahead,” he murmured.  A strange wariness hummed through him as the soldier pressed the button to hail the Castle of Lions.

He couldn’t articulate precisely what it was, but something had him uneasy – beyond the scope of the current events.  Something didn’t quite fit into place, and the sensation from being on the verge of discovery only heightened his concerns.

The hail only echoed twice before the familiar face of the aged Arusian advisor appeared on the screen. 

The man blinked.

“King Lotor,” he acknowledged formally.  “Shall I call for Commander Keith?”

“No, not necessary,” he replied.

Tension laced every bone in his body.

_Why did he assume I wanted to speak with that fool?_

“What can I do for you, then?”

The elder man was wary and guarded from the years of warfare between their planets, but he entertained his solicitation just the same.

“I just wanted to make sure Allura made it safely.”

Coran blinked.

“Allura?”

“And if there’s any chance at all she’ll speak to me.  I need to explain something – I don’t know what’s been said, but I must speak with her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Will she speak?  Just a moment, it’s all I need.”

Coran stared at the man on the monitor, struck and baffled.  As the silence between them dragged on, a nagging sense of dread settled into Lotor’s chest, curling about his heart.

“King Lotor,” he began gently.  He paused, testing his words in his mind before bringing them to his lips.  A crease furrowed across his brow.

Lotor leaned forward, eager for the rest of the information, his breath trapped in his lungs. 

What followed left the warlord frozen.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand your question. Allura is not here.  …Is… is she not with you?”


	25. Ploy

Allura leaned against the wall, tilting her head up as she exhaled in frustration.

_They won’t listen to me._

Cold terror dipped into her abdomen as she realized the impossibility of the dangerous situation she found herself in.

_They don’t actually want to hear me, to learn… what is their motivation, then?_

She bit down on her bottom lip, her diplomatic mind on overload as she struggled to fit together all the pieces.

Something was out of order.

Something didn’t make sense.

If they truly feared for her mental well-being, they would be speaking with her, perhaps she would even see a doctor to clear the air.  The most she had managed was to beg them to take a blood sample in an effort to prove her state of mind.  They had begrudgingly taken it, but Allura doubted if they did more than toss it in the trash.

_No._

Her eyes hardened at the sight of the door.

_This is a prison, not a hospital ward._

She patted the softness of the mattress as the harsh truth stared at her tauntingly.

“No matter how dressed up this is, how comfortable it may present as, this is a _cell._ ”

A bitter laugh threatened to erupt from her throat at the irony that she was in no different a position than when Lotor had offered the very proposal that had spiraled into the current chain of events.  Locked behind a door, a plush suite reeking of comforts only a shadow of a disguise – a reminder of the people who wished her to have no will of her own.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes at the memories.

_Except he did._

Lotor had been right, in the end.  Though initially ‘imprisoned’ before their vows – it _had_ been for her protection, not for her containment.  Zarkon had solidified that truth – that even a crown and a title wouldn’t save her from those who wished her harm.

Her eyes narrowed at the sealed Galaxy Garrison door across the room from her.

_I wonder why he won’t come for me this time…  He saved me before._

“No, I cannot rely on others.  I learned how to fight back so that I would never fear another tyrant again.”

The sharp reality of her situation collided with her and she released a lethal exhale.  Stormy blue eyes fell on the table and her memories flickered back to Romelle’s words.

_Just like a Drule_ , she reflected.  The words had been intended to insult her sensibilities, but as the true scope of everything settled into her mind, a slow smile stretched across her lips.

“Perhaps I am. …At least in part.”

 It had been an accurate assessment; Allura had been blinded by her rage to the point she sought only to rip the leg from the tabletop and wield it as a bludgeoning device.

“Perhaps I can do both,” she continued, her eyes rising to the ceiling.  “It is, after all, the balance,” she laughed softly, remembering the conversation she and her husband had had what seemed like eons ago.

_“If you are too kind, then you will have no will to fight when someone comes for you.  Cruelty protects your people, Allura.  Not kindness.”_

She blinked, his whispered words from the dark night in the study coming back to her in waves.   Flashes of standing above the citizens of Doom, waving over the coliseum.

_“Or… perhaps it’s somewhere in between.  What if… the greatest empire, the strongest army and the most victorious leadership… require both.  Balance.”_

She looked back to the mangled furniture.

“Acting like a Drule alone wasn’t enough to succeed in this case… Perhaps it is time to also behave like a proper _Arusian_ , as well,” she murmured. 

A grin curled at her lips as she slipped from the bed, advancing on the unsuspecting wreckage of a table.  She paused near her belongings; the few things she had bothered to bring with her.

“Proper.”

She tugged out the drape that harkened her title as Drule queen, allowing the midnight satin to settle against her shoulders and compliment her pink garments.

“Perfect.”

The crown with her tiara imbedded in it settled elegantly on top of her wild mane of sun-spun hair.

“Precise.”

She flicked the small blade Lotor had given her before her trip into her hand.

“ _Just_ like an Arusian.”

Gathering the folds of her gown, she settled beside the object of her attention, the weapon palmed.

Rather than howls of anger and warcries of destruction as she channeled all her strength into prying the metal apart, Allura sat quietly.  _Patiently._

The blade gently worked at the welds and the bolts, cutting the metal where the structure wouldn’t otherwise yield.  The unwavering will of her own bloodline combined tectonically with the ferocity and pride of her husband’s.

A meticulous attention to detail that had only come to her through years of softness, perseverance and kindness, honed as sharply as the very blade in her palm emanated from the war-born princess.  Of all the people in all the stars, she, ironically, had King Zarkon and his mercilessness to thank for her resourcefulness and determination; skills that had been burned into her very soul on the pain of death and destruction.  To be kind, even against adversaries.  To be calm, even when the threat was high.

She exhaled as her patience and will fueled her anger and righteousness, channeling it into an objective with surgical precision.

“Perhaps in that way, my husband, we are alike.  We win, or we die.”

A bolt popped free and she smiled dangerously.  Her blade kept working, the hold between the joints weakening.

“I, for one, _intend to win_.”

Another scrap of metal fell away and Allura rose gracefully to her feet, the ragged, rough edges of a separated table leg glinting in the weak light of the room as she rested it against her shoulder.

“And then I will come for you and make us right again.”

And earthy chuckle escaped her lips, her spirits higher than they had been in days; stewing in her own fear had never been productive for her.  A plan – even a tactless one – was better than simply waiting in the unknown.

“I can’t imagine the taunting I’ll endure; yes, you were right all along,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

She grabbed one of the sheets off the bed, shredding a strip of it.

She wrapped the cotton fabric around the handle of her dagger and flipped the blade in her hand, testing it.

“Alright.  I’m leaving this place now,” she announced quietly, stalking toward the door with renewed determination.

Allura exhaled.

_Like a Drule._

Her eyes popped wide and wild and with a near-snarl, she thrust the blade all the way through the touch pad keeping the door locked.

The automatic hydraulics released a cry as the electronics buckled under the destruction.  Sparks and static crackled around her, her fingertips insulated from any errant charges courtesy the fabric.

She pressed further with more wild complaints from the device.

_Twist._

She could almost feel his lips on her ear as his words floated back to her, his large palm curled around hers, guiding her actions.

Her wrist flicked as the blade rotated in the control box, the locking mechanism too weak to stand up to her determination.  The sparks diminished as the current died and the door powered down.

“Did you hear that?”

Allura stilled, listening to the words on the other side of the door.

“Do you think she’s okay in there?”

_Of course there are guards outside._

“Should we check?”

“Orders were not to open the door no matter what.”

Their words dropped to a murmur and Allura leaned in closer, trying to overhear.

“…clever.”

“She’s just a little girl though – I don’t understand why the Marshal is so afraid of her.  We can just go check on her, make sure it’s fine.  What could happen?”

“She’s lethal – he said she’s like, part Drule or something now.  She’s their _queen_.”

“She’s no queen of mine. Look, I’ll check if you’re so scared of getting in trouble.  You go tell the techs that the door is faulty and see if someone can get out here to repair it, or if we need to move her to another room.”

Rage flooded her veins at the words and Allura stepped back from the doorway.  She retrieved the loyal blade from its sheath in the access panel and returned it to her side, tucking it into the chiffon ribbon tied about her waist.

Fingertips flexed lazily around the narrower of the two ends of her club as she repositioned her grip, waiting.

_Open that door._

Allura stood just to the side of it and raised the makeshift cudgel above her head, her stance rocking back and forth as adrenaline hummed in her veins.

_A battle._

A war was beginning, and despite her cries for peace, Allura felt a familiarity in the call.  Once more, the deck was stacked against her.  Again, her slaver brought more weapons, power and strength than she could hope to surpass.  Encore une fois, she would have to dig her heels in, brace for the battle and win against the odds.

She was ready.

The poor soldier never saw it coming.

As the door peeled open and a tall, blonde-haired man stepped in, Allura quickly readjusted her stance.

Her club dropped to her side and with a dramatic upswing, she connected sharply with the soldier’s abdomen, nearly lifting him off the ground with the force of it.  He coughed, the wind leaving his lungs as he fell to his knees.

Allura blinked, temporarily shocked by her own strength.

Surprise mirrored back at her when he raised his eyes to look at her, awe and confusion in his gaze.  His lips parted to speak, but only a raspy inhale sounded.

“Sorry about that,” she murmured genuinely feeling for the pain she had caused.  “But I cannot stay here.”

She skirted back out of his immediate grasp when his palm swung for her arm; her eye catching the flash of yellow.

“Oh, oh no,” she murmured, evading the attempt to touch her.  The princess’s hand closed around his wrist and she brought his palm to his face, transferring the sedative to his own cheek. “Sorry about the nap.”

Allura stepped over him as he slumped to the floor, a deep, near-instant sleep taking him before he could even alert any of his comrades.

“And _that_ is why those are utterly frightening,” she commended softly, pausing to take the pistol from his side.  “Though I do approve of the nonlethal force,” she added, tucking the silver weapon into the band about her waist.

The juxtaposition of the glinting weaponry tucked deftly into the elegant, soft ribbon binding her dress was not lost on her as she adjusted her shawl and crown, elegantly stepping around the slumbering man, her club still brandished at her side.

She hesitated in the hallway, listening to the silence.

_Hangar bay._

Allura’s mind homed in on a single objective.  Escape.

With unbridled fury, she bolted down the empty corridor, stalling her surprise at how unguarded her cell was. Had they expected her to remain in place?

“I’ll retake my ship, and get out of here…”

Her footsteps slowed as she approached a corner, the sound of bootfalls rushing toward her around the blind turn.  Fingertips tightened around the handle of the blunt weapon and she readied herself for combat.

Three soldiers rounded the bend in the hallway, cries of alarm echoing from their lips as the rough club collided with their stomachs.  She pressed the end into another with a jab, sending him skittering backward, the third flinching out of her path on instinct as she barreled down the hall.

She grimaced, hearing behind her as they called for support across their coms.

“We have another breach!  The princess is loose in the West Corridor!”

Allura grumbled, her speed picking up as she attempted to burst past any future barricades.  If she couldn’t make it to the hangar bay before they overwhelmed her, she doubted she would get another opportunity.

“Just one chance,” she whispered.

One more sightless spin down an adjacent corridor and Allura cried out when she nearly collided with another body.

Her fingertips tightened as she gripped the table leg, prepared to strike.

The metal dropped loudly to the ground at her feet, the clatter echoing down the otherwise empty hall as her heart stopped in her chest entirely.

She stared at the man before her, disbelief etched evidently into her features.

“I…”

Her breathless words died on her lips, her body frozen in time.

Golden, serpentine eyes widened, the triangular pupil dilating as she stared up at him.

Even her heartrate stalled in her chest before restarting in double-time as tears sprung to the corners of her eyes, her body reanimating.

Lotor barely had time to sheath the lazon sword safely before her arms enveloped the barrel of his chest, barely stopping himself from toppling to the floor from the force of her body launching at his.

“Allura! I’m, please hear me-”

“You’re _here_!  And I thought you might never want to see me again!”

“ _What?_ ”

She blinked, turning her head up to meet his gaze, pressing her cheek to his chest.  She inhaled deeply, as if in reassurance that he was, in fact, standing before her.

“I tried calling you, I tried explaining everything that had happened… but you never answered.  …You never replied.  I thought you were angry with me, that perhaps I had been too cruel and-”

If Allura had had a proper train of thought, it was lost in a blinding sear of heat when his lips pressed against hers, pulling her bodily closer.

One palm cupped her cheek, the other planted firmly on her back.

“Whatever you were thinking,” he whispered as he broke the kiss between them, his lips still brushing over hers as he spoke in ragged, rough words.  “Drive it from your mind.  But… what of your asylum?  Did you rescind it?”

Her eyes widened in shock, the heated flush on her cheeks draining.

“A… asylum?  I… I’ve never made such a claim.  They’ve… kept me here, in quarantine.”

Lotor stared down at her, numbed, as she gestured down the hall toward her cell.

The clock ticked between them as the king stepped back from her to watch the woman more closely.

Her hands clasped in front of her chest nervously at the unfathomable look on his face.  Shock thawed slowly into an unholy rage, unlike any she had ever seen before.  Molten fury blazed behind his gaze, filling their depths as the full weight of her words settled in.

Perhaps she had unconsciously picked up on details of his culture without realizing it.

Perhaps she had come to understand him more than she believed, but as she watched his ribcage widen when his lungs swelled, her instinct flared; a warning siren in her mind.  Without ever seeing it before, without knowing what was to come, she acted as if she had known her husband all her life.

Her eyes pressed closed and her palms quickly grasped her ears just before an earth-shattering war cry echoed from his soul.

The soundwaves vibrated from the feral part of his very being; the specialized vocal cords often left dormant unless in desperation or dire need, radiated throughout the Garrison walls, trembling the very floor she stood on and threatening to shatter the glass – had it not been reinforced to withstand military weaponry, she was certain it would have.

As the violent, aural promise of blood faded from the air, Allura slowly opened her eyes and peeked up at him, hands still shielding her ears and shoulders still doubled over in a cower.

Lotor blinked at her, almost dazed.  His lips pressed closed over his fangs as he caught his breath.

“ _Come_ ,” he growled roughly, his voice ragged from the sonic projection.  Without waiting for her protest, his palm curled around her own hand as he tugged her down the hallway from which he had originally come, Allura scooping her makeshift bludgeon as he did.

Rounding a corner, the queen quickly realized why no guards had come to aid the few she had assaulted; the passageway was littered with mostly-unconscious soldiers.

They appeared relatively unscathed, despite perhaps the occasional concussion – or broken bone.

“I’m surprised so many are still alive,” she murmured lightly behind him as her smaller legs bobbed quickly to keep up with his unwavering pace.

“ _A luxury I no longer offer_ ,” he replied, the venom threading lethally through his rumbling voice, as if he still partially spoke with the unique vocal instrument within him designed to reverberate the war cry.

A shiver rolled down her spine and a surprisingly proud, sensual heat settled into her abdomen.

_Proud._

She was proud of him.  Proud of all he was, all he could do.  And he _had_ come.

Emotion slammed into the slender woman and Lotor stilled, turning suddenly, his eyes widening when the queen burst into sobs without warning.

“ _Allura,_ ” he hesitated, closing his eyes as if it took him a moment to adjust which part of his windpipe he was using to speak.  “Allura,” he repeated softly, once more in his normal tone of voice.  “What is it?”

“I don’t know!”  Her palms clasped her face abruptly, tears flooding over her cheeks.  “I feel so overwhelmed – I… I was so frightened!”

Firm arms curled around her body, drawing her safely against his chest as she hiccupped.

Lotor’s keen eyes skimmed the hallway for any signs of an oncoming threat as he held her.

“I should not have done that in front of you,” he apologized.

As her quaking emotion stilled, she shook her head once against his shoulder.  Slender fingers curled into his tunic, the other hand still grasping the steel in her fist.

“No,” she whispered.  “Not that.  Of this,” she gestured to the Garrison.  “I’m afraid I don’t know what’s going on, and they wouldn’t let me speak with anyone…” Allura sniffed, releasing him to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand.  A flush burned across her cheeks as she chanced a glance in his direction.  “…Whatever that was… it did not frighten me.”

Lotor’s brow creased and he almost seemed offended.

“It’s supposed to.  The entire point of it is-”

He stilled, growing more chagrined and flustered when Allura only giggled in response.

“No, please don’t mistake me.  I don’t mean that it wasn’t frightening – stars know anyone within earshot would be on their knees…”

“But not you,” he murmured, his irritated expression melting into a familiar, almost predatory look.

“No, not me,” she affirmed with a smile.  “Hearing it… it was the first time I felt _safe_ in the last few days.”

A low rumble of approval sounded from his chest and she swallowed, recognizing the fire in his eyes.  He said nothing initially, turning away from her and continuing to move down the hallway, Allura at his heels.

“That’s the sensation it’s supposed to inspire… in a _mate_.”

Allura’s skin burned hot at the implication and her lips curled into a soft smile as her heart fluttered in her chest.

“It’s going to be alright now, isn’t it?”

“Eventually,” he supplied, pausing outside a door.  Fingers clicked over the keypad and the door opened.  Allura’s brow furrowed at the gesture as he pulled her into the main control room.

“What…”

Lotor reached behind her to key closed the lock and Allura noticed for the first time the ambient light in the room appeared… _greener_ than usual.

“I want to find out what the hell is going on – and we need to wait for Haggar to get back,” he murmured as he strode to the hacked command station and began typing across it, as if that explained everything.

“Haggar is here?  What is she doing?”

“The witch is how we got here so quickly.  We used her portals.  They don’t reach all the way to Earth, so we had to use a Drule planet along the way as a stopover.”  He paused as something flickered across the screen.

“Wait! Why was I stuck in a ship for three days if witchcraft had been an option?”

Lotor turned to face her wild, irritated blue eyes.

“Because she would have had to travel with you – and how do you think the Galaxy Alliance would have fared if a Drule teleport suddenly manifested on their base without warning on your so-called _peace mission_?”  He nearly snarled the words, livid at the developments.

Allura’s expression startled before calming, recognizing his rage wasn’t directed at her.  The queen hadn’t even realized she had developed the ability to read the man so well.  A soft smile laced her lips and she shook her head once, striding up to his side.

“A valid point.  Will we be able to use such a method of travel to return, or will we need a ship?”

“Unlikely, but I’ve arranged something better just the same.  The magical method can be… a disturbing sensation.  We just need to wait for Haggar to return.”

“What if she’s in danger?”  Allura’s blue eyes shot to his and he only stared at her for a moment before laughing darkly.

“My dear, it is the Galaxy Alliance who is in danger right now.”

“Because of you?”

An ominous rumble quaked the ground without warning and his lips split into a fierce grin.

“And _that_ ,” he replied.

Her eyes popped wide as she touched the control console to steady herself.

“What was-”

The arrogant man did not answer her question, instead turned back to the data mine he was scouring.

Allura frowned as she circled around in front of him, but he didn’t lift his eyes from the screen.  She exhaled in frustration, knowing which battles to fight and which to fold with him.

Anxiety took her feet from him and she began pacing the room, studying the chairs lining the walls, the computer stations with their screens in sleep mode.

Her fingertips laced the handle of a cabinet, pulling the steel doors open.

She blinked, reaching inside and pulling free a massive rifle, nearly as large as her torso.  She steadied it against her shoulder to test the weight and balance.

“Could you really use something like that?”

Allura looked to the man, the small cannon still balanced against her slender frame in a near-comical fashion.

“Do you think I couldn’t?”

“I’d never doubt you, but I think that weapon may not be ideal for someone of your… stature,” he hedged carefully, his eyes never leaving the screen in front of him as information flashed.

Her lips quirked playfully before she returned the massive firearm to its secured location.

“What are we waiting for? Just Haggar?  What was the noise outside?”

Allura tugged open another cabinet, too restless to stand still, yet too comfortable in his presence to be truly on edge in her situation.

“Bitch,” he growled suddenly.

The queen blinked at the profanity, turning suddenly to look at him.  His palms splayed wide on either side of the monitor as he leaned closer, his head tilted to the side as if listening.

Her brow creased and she gathered the folds of her skirt, gliding toward him.  As she approached, she began to make out the soft sound.

She froze in her tracks just behind him when his palms clenched on the metal, the sides warping painfully under his iron grasp.  A blush colored her cheeks as she recognized the panicked, hysterical sobs from the third message she had attempted to send him.

"It seems the calls never left the base," she murmured softly.

He pressed off the console and turned to face her, a strange expression of horror across his face.

"I had no idea, Allura. I thought-"

_"I love you."_

The warlord froze as the soft whisper from the last message echoed behind him.

Allura swallowed nervously as a heavy silence settled between them.

"You..."

His eyes were impossibly wide - Allura had never seen his pupils in such detail.  She humbly unfolded and refolded her hands in front of herself as she averted her gaze, her skin utterly aflame.

"Yes, well.  I had some time to think," she whispered quietly.  "And... I... well."  She shrugged helplessly, utterly caught by the foreign expression on his features and the rising heat of her embarrassment.

"Oh, good, you've found her."

Two sets of eyes snapped to the doorway as the witch breezed in.  She froze as the door whisked shut and her golden eyes narrowed.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Lotor recovered himself first, Allura simply flushing deeper.

"Yes, incidentally."

"She won't rescind the asylum?"

Haggar's narrowed gaze swiveled to the young woman; the reminder of why they were on Earth in the first place shaking the king from his stupor.

A growl rumbled from his throat.

"No - there never was one.  She's been their _hostage_ this whole time."

His voice once more bordered on that same warning growl.

Haggar blinked, unfazed by the lethal tone; evidence of years of hearing it.  She glided up beside him.

"Why, though.  What would they seek to accomplish?"

"That... I don't yet know," he muttered, flipping through more screens.  He stilled, suddenly looking over his shoulder at Allura.  "Did they give you any information about what was going on?  Why the... _quarantine_?"  It was painful for him to swallow the word.

"No... well, they said they believed something about my mind being corrupted," she stilled, her gaze flashing to Haggar apologetically.  "Sorry," she murmured, earning her a shrug from the witch.

"Men don't like what they can't understand," she replied airily.  "So they thought some magic had overtaken your sensibilities, did they?"

"Well, you did, in fairness..."

"Perhaps we should explore that again," he murmured lowly, earning him a smack to his forearm from the feisty queen.  He laughed when she muttered something darkly under her breath.

"What was that? Care to say it again?"

Her lips pressed together tightly and his grin only stretched wider over his fangs.

"Something about not needing it anymore?"

Allura's skin flamed red.

" _Lotor,"_ she hissed at him, Haggar's eyebrow arching dryly.

"I realize you have been apart a while, and Lotor has no semblance of self-control, but perhaps we should investigate why their entire hanger bay is empty."

"Empty?  Their fleet is gone?  Where would it go?"  Allura's flush faded instantly as she returned to business, glancing between the two Drules.  Lotor swiftly looked back to the terminal, digging deeper into the secured files.

Several tense seconds rolled by in silence as he typed furiously before his fingers stilled, his palms coming to rest.

Lotor cursed.

"What is it, did you find their flight plan?"

"Yes."

She edged closer.

"What does it say?  Where are they headed?"

He turned and pinned her with his golden gaze.

"Arus. ...They're headed to Arus."


	26. Peculation

“I don’t understand,” Allura murmured, breathless as she jogged by Lotor’s side.  “Why would they go to Arus?”

“I don’t know – they told me that you had requested being transferred there at your… asylum request,” he hedged darkly, glancing down to the woman keeping pace with him.

Her lips pressed together thinly.

“Has everyone left the base?”

“Beyond a handful of guards,” he paused, turning to grasp the pistol from her side.  Before she even recognized the threat, the soldier down the hall was on the ground.  “No.”

“Have they taken warships?”

“I can confirm the bays are empty,” Haggar piped up.

The trio paused at a large double doorway.

Allura’s brows knitted together as the strange pieces seemed to find purchase in her mind.

“So they’ve sent a fleet.  A… a war fleet… to Arus.  We must warn Coran and the others – Voltron should be able to handle it,” she exclaimed.

Lotor’s expression darkened and Allura’s heart lurched.

“Remember how I said I had made arrangements for another way for you to travel, since dark magic wouldn’t suit you?”

Allura’s head bobbed up and down and with an exhale Lotor pressed down on the long bar holding the doors shut, swinging the metal barricade open into the sunlight.

There, across the courtyard and amid debris kicked up and bowled trees – stood the magnificent robot itself; the source of the ground vibrations earlier.

“It would appear that the Castle of Lions was unaware that you were not with me.  Since Arus is slightly closer to Earth, they agreed to send backup as there would be no way to move an entire Drule fleet that distance so quickly.”

Allura’s face lit up at the familiar sight of her planet’s guardian and protector.  As Lotor’s words settled in, her expression shattered.

“That means Arus is unguarded!”

A low rumble of an assent vibrated from his chest.

“Haggar,” he turned to the crone just as she began replying.

“Cossack is already on his way to Arus, but I don’t think they’ll beat the Alliance there.”

“Take your portals and meet up with him,” he ordered.  The witch bowed, vanishing on the spot.

“We have to get back,” she breathed, breaking into a run toward the armored vehicle.  As she stepped out into the courtyard, the robot quickly broke apart into the five lions.  Hatch doors opened and the five pilots stepped out, including Sven from the blue lion.

“Allura, what’s going on?” Keith was the first to remove his helmet and call to her as she approached, Lotor just behind her.

“She was their _prisoner_ ,” Lotor growled dangerously, his voice hovering on the edge of another reverberating shockwave.  A warm, soothing sensation slid down her spine and despite the chaos swirling around them, she felt _relaxed._

Keith and the remaining Space Explorers, however, stumbled back instinctively, their eyes widening.

Allura’s eyes homed sharply on Sven.

“Where’s Romelle?”

“Last we heard from her, she was on a peace mission with the Galaxy Alliance. But, she’s not here now?”

Allura’s gaze snapped up to Lotor’s, her own expression mirroring his shock.

“So _none_ of you know what’s going on?”

Dangerous, golden eyes narrowed on the pilots.  Allura’s eyes widened when she heard the soft growl in his chest, her hands reaching out to touch his forearm.

“I believe them,” she murmured.  He snapped back to her and his fury softened.  “What we need are answers now – and it sounds like Romelle may be on her way back to Arus with the rest of the fleet.”

Sven’s brow furrowed.

“Why would she do that?”

“Why indeed?”  Lotor glanced back his way, studying his expression closely.

“Please,” Allura insisted.  “My people may not be safe right now.  Please help them.  We don’t know exactly _what_ is going on – why they have sent an armada…”

“Right,” Keith acknowledged.  “You two can ride with me in Black Lion, if you like.”

“Please,” Allura nodded.

“We won’t beat them there, but they won’t have much time before we return,” he explained, jogging back to the ship.

A strange hesitation flickered as Keith approached his lion.  A slight shiver ran down his spine as he opened the cockpit, the queen and king just behind him.

He stilled, glancing over his shoulder and catching the Drule’s eye as he eased himself down into the pilot’s chair.

“We don’t have the luxury of time,” Allura admonished him, coming to stand at one side of his chair, Lotor settling in beside her.

“Right,” he apologized, dropping his key into the ignition.

“Can you hail Coran? See what’s going on?”

Keith reached for the communication button when Lotor’s voice cut in.

“Wait.”

“Excuse me?”  Keith’s eyes flashed over his shoulder angrily when Lotor stopped him.  The Drulish eyes narrowed at the defiance, but with a single exhale from his chest, he remained calm.

“It’s more advantageous to not tell them we are with you.”

“Allura?”  Keith shifted his attention to the queen behind him.

“I think Lotor may be right.  We don’t know what exactly they are doing – and if they believe me to still be on Earth, that might work in our favor to catch them by surprise.”  Her brow furrowed.  “…I just hope Coran is alright.”

“Nothing we can do until we get there,” he replied, returning his eyes to the console in front of him.  He flipped another switch, the four faces of the other pilots lighting up.  “Heads up, team.  We’re going to go in low, we’re going to act like we don’t know anything.  Don’t engage anyone unless they shoot first.  We need to know what their gameplan is before we act.”

“Right!”

Silence fell over the trio in the cockpit, the gentle hum of the engine a warm reminder to the Arusian.  While her mind drifted off in worry, she could practically feel the way Lotor’s eyes discreetly skimmed the inside of the Black Lion.

“You were right, you know,” she murmured in bitter frustration.  Keith’s head tilted back slightly as Lotor pressed his palm over hers.  “I should have listened to you, I never should have left.”

An exhale left the Drule as he shook his head in frustration.

"You couldn't have known."

Allura had no reply as they approached the planet, more quietude rolling over them.

"I suggest you let us pilots go in first," Keith spoke up as they hit the atmosphere.  "They'll be expecting us when we land.  They won't be expecting _you_.  If anything is fishy, we can keep the element of surprise."

"Alright," Allura agreed, hazarding a glance to her husband.  When his jaw only ticked in response and the murderous look glinted in his eyes, she grew quiet.  As if sensing his reticence, Keith cocked his head over his shoulder.

"Lotor?"

He sighed.

"I agree," he finally offered as the tactical practicality of it won out over the bloodrage.

The lion landed and Keith shut it down, rising from his chair.  Allura eyed the Garrison warships on the ground and hovering in her sky warily.  He cast one look over his shoulder at the monarchs before unholstering his pistol and leaping out.

Allura lingered back before tossing a dry smile up at the Drule.

"Bet you never thought he'd leave you in the cockpit of the Black Lion, did you?"

When he only grimaced in response, Allura giggled nervously.

"We will right this," she affirmed.

Cautiously, she peered out the hatch door, her eyes skimming the surface for any sign of Alliance sentinels.  She watched as the Voltron Force moved across the bridge to the castle quickly, unhindered.

"Alright, it's clear," she murmured, gathering the billows of her gown and deftly dropping to the earth, Lotor not far behind her.

Shoulder to shoulder, they quickly, but warily, approached the castle.

She nudged the door open, skirting around the small opening before tucking into the wall.

The main corridor remained empty, and she hesitantly edged along the darkness toward the main control room when something curled around her forearm.

Eyes wide, her head spun around and she barely caught the cry on her lips when it was only Lotor hovering over her.  A soft tug to her limb guided her back as he stepped in front, cautiously tracking her same path.

The first thing they realized was that the fortified control room doors were open; something they likely had Keith to thank for as the were rarely propped apart.

Lotor's shoulder pressed into the wall right by the open crevice in the door, mindful to avoid the touchpad, Allura sidling up beside him, both craning to hear what - and whom - was inside the room.

"...ships for?"

Keith's voice was unmistakable and Allura breathed in relief that the team had made it in ahead of them.

"Why, we're here for support, of course.  I'm afraid we weren't able to communicate before now, but time was of the utter urgency.  Your princess has taken up sanctuary at our base while she recovers from her injuries."

Allura grasped her husband's arm tightly when he flinched toward the door, drawing him back to her.

"Why would you anticipate a Drule invasion," Coran's voice echoed smoothly.

"Surely you're aware of the pact she made with the Crown Prince - Arus was to be spared as long as she stayed with him.  Naturally, her first fear was that he would turn on her planet the moment she fled."

Allura raised her eyes to meet Lotor's wide, golden gaze in the darkness.  She silently shook her head, dismissing quickly the sudden concern that flashed behind his expression.  Her palm squeezed around his gently, reassuringly, before turning her attention back to the conversation.

"It's why we were worried he would come here!"

Lotor moved quickly to grasp Allura by the shoulders, hauling her back against his chest as she lunged at the door when Romelle's voice rang out.

"Let go," she commanded, silencing the room on the other side of the door.  "I'm getting answers."

Lotor unwillingly relinquished her as the covertness of their eavesdropping had been lost.  The furious queen stormed past the doors and quickly took in the room.

Coran was at his usual place near the command pedestal, Romelle standing not too far from him.  Keith turned to look over his shoulder as Allura burst in, the rest of his team flanking him.

An assortment of Galaxy Alliance guards - _armed_ , she noticed - circled around the Control Room.

"I was not hiding there and I am _not_ injured.  I was invited there to _explain_ the unusual situation I have involved myself in and was retained as a hostage for my efforts," she snapped out, glaring at the Marshal.

Allura blinked, her tempest of fury dissipating as his jaw hardened.

"You're here."

"I am," she replied firmly.  "And now you can leave."  She gestured to the door behind her.

"But my dear, we're only here to protect your people from..."  He trailed off as Lotor stepped into the room, folding his arms comfortably across his chest, coming to stand behind his wife.

"You were supposed to attack Arus," the Marshal growled.

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Your agreement!  With Allura in Asylum, your covenant would be broken!"

Allura stared horrified at the official, struck by the crude scheme.

"Right?" He wheeled around, pinning Romelle with a look.  "That's what you told me!  Did you lie to me?"

Romelle's eyes popped wide and she stepped back, startled.

"No, I assure you, that was the information I was given."

"Romelle, why would you do that?"  Sven stepped forward toward her.  "You know how much Arus means to all of us."

The Polluxian princess folded her arms angrily across her body.

"I thought if their arrangement was ended, she would return here and you could come home.  I miss you."

"So you were willing to sell out Arus?"

"No - the Galaxy Alliance said they would protect her and her planet!  Right?  Things could go back to the way they were before!"

"Enough," the Marshal growled, silencing the panicked chatter in the room.  His eyes narrowed when Lotor stepped up beside Allura, his large palm closing over her shoulder.  "Change of plans."

"All I wished was to speak with you, to keep our peace.  What did you seek to gain out of all of this, anyway?"  Allura's palms clasped in front of her chest. 

"Voltron."

Silence deafened the room as Allura's hands fell back to her sides.

"What?"  Romelle's surprise startled Allura from her trance.

"And what makes you think you would have gotten it if you had managed to somehow provoke him against me?"  The Arusian continued, undaunted.

"Why, Arus would be in our debt.  Again.  But, that original plan seems to be fruitless since you appear so bound to him that you're willing to carry his heir."

He snapped his fingers and the Galaxy Alliance soldiers suddenly raised their pistols amidst a chaotic cacophony of confusion.

Allura's palms found rapid purchase on her abdomen, Lotor's saber was out and the pilots had shifted into a battle stance.

The Marshal's eyes widened as he took in Allura's shocked expression.

"Oh..."  His words almost sounded soft and sincere.  "...You didn't even know, did you?"

"Marshal, this was not your plan," Romelle protested, horrified by the sudden shift in tension.  "You said you would protect them!"

"And I am, but I need Voltron to do that.  Now, Allura," he looked back to the Drule queen as her husband stepped protectively in front of her.

"No way," Keith grumbled, leveling his firearm at the man.

"Allura, give him the order to hand it over."

His eyes never left hers and the frozen shock of the revelation thawed into blue fire.

"Never," she hissed out at him from behind Lotor.  "You think you can just bully your way in here and demand things of me?"

The king lunged, unable to hold himself back.

A pistol clicked.

" _Stop!_ "

Allura's shrill cry echoed in the chamber, freezing everyone in their place.

Her labored, panicked breathing sounded as she reached, arms outstretched toward the Marshal.

"Please, please don't," she murmured as the leader of her once-ally leveled his personal weapon on Coran.

"I see I have your attention now."

"We don't have to hurt anyone here today, Marshal," she whispered.  "Let's just all calm down, and we can come to a sensible, reasonable conclusion..."

"Or you could give me your keys."

"Why do you want Voltron so badly?"

"Voltron used to be our ally; our force of light against the Drule Empire.  As of late, it's been notably... absent."

Allura's brow furrowed as she straightened, allowing her arms to drop to her sides.

"It hasn't been needed.  That was the point of the peace, so that-"

"Yes, slightly inconvenient for a military organization, don't you think?  They've been nothing but trouble, and you're willing to _bed_ their leader and turn your back on us."

The deafening snarl that reverberated in the room caused some of the soldiers to take a step backward.

Allura reached forward, touching Lotor's gloved hand delicately.  Understanding the nonverbal communication, he backed away until he was standing just in front of her once more.

"Now, give me the keys so I can finish what you refuse to do.  Voltron has always been too pacifist, anyway.  You never even mounted an attack with it."

"It's a _defender._   It was built by my father to protect people."

"What better way to protect than to remove the enemies from the battlefield?"

"But there _are_ no enemies now!"  The queen's tone elevated in pitch, growing frustrated with the mounting tension.  As her eyes flickered around the room more closely, her hope wavered.

The guards from the Garrison outnumbered the Arusian party substantially.  Even if every one of her allies were quick with their triggers, they would still lose.

"You're going to use it to hurt people," she murmured.

"Not people. _Drules_."

Allura's anger exploded.

"How _dare_ you say that!  You're asking me to choose between my family and my people!  That's-"

A calm hand steadied her temper and she glanced up at the impassive, furious face of her husband.  Her heart flipped, despite immediately understanding that the Drulish fury was not aimed at her.

As if sensing the tension, his expression softened.

"It's alright, Allura.  Go ahead and give him the keys," he encouraged.

She stepped closer to him as he sheathed his sword.  Her voice lowered.

"He's going to attack the Drule Empire with it."

"I know.  And we will fight them.  There are too many people in this room who could get hurt," he explained, his palms sliding down her small waist, fingers curling into her back and his thumbs brushing over her stomach.  "...is it true?"

"I... I'm not certain," she admitted.

"We'll win, Allura.  I swear it to you.  _We.  Will.  Win._ "

She stared up into his eyes and the truth of the situation settled in.  A true warrior knew when to withdraw, when to re-calibrate, and when best to strike with all the fury of the seven hells. 

Now was not that time.

A trembling exhale left her frame and she nodded, looking over her shoulder toward Keith and the pilots.

"And what guarantee do we have that you'll leave if I hand them over," she glared at the Marshal.

"Because I could just take them from you at this point, but I'd rather have your cooperation."

"We got this, Allura," Keith hedged quickly, walking slowly toward the Marshal.  The title _Queen_ was still foreign on his tongue, and moreover he worried acknowledging her marriage openly might stoke the flames of tension.

"And how does it fly?"

The Marshal rolled the oval key over in his palm, running his thumb along the surface greedily.

"I can show you," he agreed, dejectedly.

"And the formation sequence."

A heavy silence settled in the room as he nodded.

"Yes," he agreed, glancing a wary look over his shoulder at Allura.  The forlorn queen remained curled in Lotor's arms, his body turned to act as the first shield should any of the blasters detonate.

"Be careful, Keith," she called.

He hummed an assent.

"They're parked outside, not on their bases.  I'll show you."

Keith escorted the Marshal out as one of the remaining soldiers collected the four keys and followed behind them.

The rest of the soldiers stayed behind, careful to watch for treachery until the transaction was complete.

Allura buried her face against Lotor's shoulder, and while her frame trembled, she couldn't bring tears to her eyes.

Only fire coursed her veins.

"I should never have left," she whispered against him, her breath a weak noise when his palm closed around the back of her head.

"You," Lotor growled over Allura's shoulder when Romelle began to demurely approach.  "No longer have business here."

"That's not for you-"

" _Get out."_ His voice was low, but rumbled on the edge of something utterly draconic.  Allura could _feel_ the lethality beneath her arms around the barrel of his chest more than hear it in the hiss of a voice.  The inflection stopped Romelle short.

"I just wanted to help," she turned her eyes on the curled Arusian.

Quiet silence settled and Allura watched as the rest of the guards left the room, presumably recalled by their commander after a successful lion launch.  Keith returned momentarily, looking paler than she had seen him before.

Allura winced at the familiar sign of a lion roar outside and she shook her head once.

"Thank you for handling that,  I'm... I'm not certain I would've had the strength to," she said softly.

The commander nodded once.

"There was no reason for you to go through that.  What's next?"

" _You_ may help by leaving," Allura finally acknowledged Romelle's question.  "The rest of us need to get to work."

"But I can help, I can-" 

" _Out!_ " Allura rounded on her cousin so sharply the Polluxian stumbled backwards, grasping for Sven's arm.  "Do you not understand what you've done? _All_ you had to do was believe what I had told them.  Or - if that was beyond you, just _trusted_ me in the Garrison."

Romelle's temper flared.

"Look - I know what that man's capable of.  I've seen it firsthand.  I've seen how he can manipulate and control people with just a sway of words."

"Anything that might have happened was in the past, regardless."

"He murdered my brother, Avok!"

" _What?_ Is that was this is about?!" Rage thundered across the room and Allura glanced over her shoulder at her husband.

"You killed him!  You turned him into a robeast!"  Romelle was quick to fire back at the Drule.

"Wait, the robeast on Pollux was actually _your brother_?  When you said he killed... I thought you meant..." Allura trailed off, watching the debate.

"Gods below, Avok _begged_ to become one - it was _your_ father's plan!  My father and I both thought it was a terrible idea, but you _all_ insisted! _All of you._ When Voltron won - like I told you he would - I'm the one in the wrong?  _You're_ the one who wanted to conquer your precious cousin's planet, after all.  At least I have never made secret of my past designs."

An uneasy quiet settled over the room as Allura turned her blue eyes on her only remaining blood left.

"...You never told me that part, Romelle."

"Romelle, is that true?"  Sven stepped toward her curiously and the Polluxian backed away.

"When Voltron came to your planet that day, it was the first time I even knew you existed.  I knew you were in King Zarkon's territory, but the prospect that I still had living family out there somewhere... I couldn't resist it.  I wanted to meet you, to see if we could end the war between us."

Romelle huffed, at a loss for words.

"I wanted to find my lost family," Allura pressed.  Her brow creased as her tone darkened.  "Though I'm beginning to understand that my chosen family has always been my true ally."

"I worried you wouldn't believe that I wanted to be on your side if I had told you the truth," she admitted.

Allura's eyes narrowed.

"I'm questioning that very thing right now."

"But I-"

"Come, Romelle, we will leave now."  Sven paused and glanced back to Allura.  "I will take her back to Pollux - call me if you need anything.  I...  I'm sorry.  I don't know what else I can do, but help her get away from here now."

Allura nodded and touched Sven's shoulder.

"I believe you," she said warmly, a tone softer than she had used with her cousin.

As Sven escorted the Polluxian out the door past Lotor, she slowed to glare up at him.

"You make an unfortunate habit of trusting those who lie to you, and yet not believing those whom you seek to protect."

"You even gave me false information to pass along about that blasted comet," she growled at him.

"And you believed me instead of her."

Sven nudged her out the door before she could retort.

"You and I need to have a long talk," his accented voice floated back to them.

Lotor looked away from the door to find Allura staring sadly after them.

"He really does love her.  I feel badly for him.  But," she turned away and quickly embraced Coran.  "I'm so thankful you're safe."

"What about Voltron?"

Her advisor released his hold on her as she stepped back.

"I don't know.  We need to do something, our people are in danger," she murmured, turning to look at Lotor.  "We need to contact Cossack - the fleet can't be far away, and if they appear on the lions' radars, I'm certain the Alliance will engage!  They must either turn around or divert their path immediately!"

Coran stepped back as she spun to the command station, pulling up the cue for the call.

"Frequency?"  She looked over to the king.

Her husband was at her side in a second, entering the frequency the Drule Command ships received.  She exhaled in relief when Cossack's face appeared, and Lotor quickly explained the situation.

Haggar and Cossack exchanged confused looks on the monitor before nodding, ending the transmission and relaying the diversion plan.

Allura felt marginally calmer at the immediate disaster aversion.

"Alright, next thing is to figure out a way to stop them.  We should-"

"-see a doctor," Lotor cut her off with a low murmur.

"A... a doctor?"  Wide, blue eyes turned up at him in confusion. He curled his large hands around her waist delicately once more.

"Oh," she murmured, a blush coloring her cheeks.  "But the Empire-"

"Can wait a little longer.  I need to know, Allura.  _We_ need to know."

"I'm not even sure how they... oh.  I gave them a blood sample," she admitted.  "I had hoped it would convince them nothing was wrong with me, but... that seems to have never been the case."

She placed her palms over the top of his fingertips and nodded once in agreement.

"Alright.  Coran could you-"

"I'll send for Doctor Gorma to meet you in your chambers," he immediately finished.

"Thank you."

As Allura led the way from the control room, her king in tow, a flurry of murmurs kicked up from the cadre of Space Explorers behind her.  What was being said she neither heard nor cared.  Only the hammer in her heart sounded and only the strong presence beside her mattered.

 


	27. Presence

“Well,” she whispered.

Lotor said nothing, content to let his face rest in his palms.  He sat in an armchair facing her bed, while Allura sat pensively on the edge.

“Say something,” she murmured, her voice tightening with concern.

“Did you know?”

He raised his golden eyes to meet hers, an enigmatic expression on his face.

“I…”  She glanced down and brushed her fingertips over her flat stomach. “I suppose I _should_ have.  I wasn’t paying attention with everything else that’s been happening these past few months.  But… no.  I didn’t.”

She hazarded him a wary look.

When silence dragged on, Allura couldn’t hold back the question that nearly choked her.

“Are you angry?”

The sputtering that came from the unusually quiet man was nearly answer enough.

“ _Angry?_ ”

“I mean, it’s rather inopportune timing… especially with all we’ve just unraveled about the Galaxy Alliance.  Moreover I no longer have possession of Voltron, and-”

She hadn’t even seen him move.

While the speed and strength of the man had become more common and less frightening, he still managed to catch her by surprise.

His lips crashed into hers and his palms caged her face, shocking the doubt from her mind.

She stared up at him as he withdrew his head, his lips brushing against hers.

“ _Never._ ”

An exhale left her lips in relief.

“We just… It hasn’t been something we’ve talked much about,” she hedged, twisting her fingers in her lap nervously.  “And stars know it’s not something I’ve put much thought into.  I don’t…”

Allura trailed off, her eyes popping wide as her breathing hitched.

Whether exhaustion from the recent developments, the stress of her confinement or a surge of hormones she had not been aware existed, she melted.

Lotor’s arms snaked around her frame as she broke before him, weeping openly as she curled her fingers into his tunic.

“I don’t even know _how_ to be a mother,” she lamented painfully, her chest constricting as she ached to know her own better.  “I never really knew mine – all I know,” she hiccupped, hiding her face against his shoulder.  All she knew was what Nanny had taught her – and Allura had no intention of passing on _that_ upbringing.

“All I know is how to fight – I’ve been taught that.  But I’m barely a leader. I could handle a planet, but an empire? I’m a passable queen at best, how in the stars can I become-”

She blinked, permafrost eyes popping wide when he tilted her chin up.

Tears flooded from the corners, rolling openly down her cheeks and brushing against his palm as he stared quietly into her expression.  She struggled to catch her breath against the ragged gasps leaving her lungs.

“If you keep talking of the Empire’s queen like that – I may have to punish you for treason,” he murmured.  A playful smile curled at his lips as he teased her, but she could still divine the restrained concern behind his expression.

He eased himself down beside her, his thigh brushing against hers.  Palms never left her body as he settled close, letting her head come to rest against his chest.

“I don’t know how to do any of this.”

His hands fluttered across her, unsure where to settle before coming to rest on her back.

“One thing at a time.”

Dr. Gorma’s confirmation had shocked both the royals; Allura had insisted they run the test more than once, nearly convinced that it had been a ploy from the Galaxy Alliance to use against her allegiance with Doom.

Perhaps it was the one thing the administration hadn’t lied about – test after test, the results had been the same.

Fresh, tiny new life bloomed between the unlikely couple and Allura was beside herself with the information.

“I feel so strange,” she murmured breathlessly as she regained her voice, swallowing back her tears.  With a ragged inhale, she leaned away to stare up at the worried Drule.

“I would imagine so,” he murmured, his large palms curling around her waist once more.

“No, I don’t believe it’s that.  …At least not yet.”

She exhaled, threading her fingers through the hair on top of her head, bowing her face slightly.

“We are on the brink of potentially the most deadly situation of our lives – the Galaxy Alliance has control of _Voltron_ , and they’ve made it clear they intend to use it as a weapon.  It breaks my heart to see my father’s legacy be torn apart that way… and yet… I’m so happy for this.  …We’ve made our _own_ legacy.”

She giggled nervously.

“How can I be both happy and sad at the same time?  How can I be so excited and yet so terrified…”

“We will take Voltron back, we will conquer the Galaxy Alliance, and our child will never know a world of warfare,” he promised, Allura’s eyes flashing to his in shock.

“No… no more war?”

“Perhaps an occasional conquering expedition, as is Drule custom,” he grinned wickedly at her.

Her fractured expression solidified in a pout.

“No child of mine is going warfaring,” she muttered, drawing a dark laugh from him.

“But it’s tradition!”

“Not for me!”

A heavy moment of silence beat between them; the chilling sensation that perhaps not _every_ detail between their factions had been entirely sorted.

“It’s a rite of passage, Allura.” His voice was low and even, a warning sign that it was a position he would not be quick to budge from.

She glared dangerously at him, her lips popping open to retort when the door to her chambers opened without warning.

“ _Is it true?!_ ”

Two wide sets of eyes fixed on the nursemaid that had just burst into the bedchambers.

Before she could storm more than a single step toward the couple, Lotor was off the mattress, his lazon sword drawn.

“Wait,” Allura’s cry echoed in the room as she grasped for his empty hand.  “Don’t hurt her, please!”

“You will not approach my wife,” he growled at the aggressive matron.

“That’s _my_ baby,” she pointed past him at Allura.  “And my baby is having a baby!  You mean to keep me from her?”

“ _No one_ comes near her.”  His voice lowered a dangerous pitch and Allura’s quick observation picked up on the underlying exchange happening.

“Lotor,” she murmured gently, coming to her feet and standing as his side, her arms lacing around his free arm.  “She’s alright.  She’s loud, but she means well.  There’s no threat here,” she encouraged him softly.

Golden hues glanced down to the queen out of the corner of his eyes and she smiled up at him.  As Lotor carefully put his sword away, her expression hardened playfully.

“And for the record, I get just as much say in who approaches me as you do, if not more,” she chided.  “The… concern… is appreciated, however,” she conceded gracefully, yielding to understanding.

When Lotor only grumbled dangerously in response she patted his arm before stepping forward.  Nanny’s eyes widened, tears flooded the corners.

“So it’s true?”  Her gaze flickered from Allura’s face to her stomach and back again.

A pink blush graced her cheeks at the sudden attention the unexpected news was drawing her, but she nodded daintily just the same.

“Yes, Dr. Gorma confirmed the Galaxy Alliance’s claim earlier.”

“And… you’re well?  Everything is… well?”

The nursemaid was at her side, placing the back of her palm against Allura’s forehead before grasping her wrist to check for a pulse.

“No fevers, no pain?”

“Nanny, please,” the queen chided softly.  “It’s early still – I didn’t even know myself.”

“Well, how did those scoundrels know?”

Allura bit down on her bottom lip.

“I told them… in a way.  They thought something was wrong with me from my… current political alignments,” she explained tactfully.  “I encouraged them to take some blood samples and run tests – to prove of I was of sane mind and sound body.  …I had… no idea what those tests would show this.”

“…My baby’s going to have a baby!”  The woman gently grasped Allura’s cheeks as she bawled, and the queen gently gestured to Lotor that all was well when she saw him flinch in her direction.

“It’s still early, Nanny, plus – we have far more important things to do,” she explained, tactfully detangling herself.

“The lions.  I heard.  I wondered why the warships had appeared,” she huffed.

“I’m just grateful we got them to leave without anyone getting hurt.  Now, we just need to figure out how to retake it… or stop them.  We’d need something capable of withstanding battle with Voltron.  A fleet – armada…”

Allura wheeled on her husband, a new, fresh light in her eyes at the strange glimmer of hope before her, startling the king.

“We need _robeasts_!”

Silence settled in the room before a slow grin melted across his lips, a deep chuckle emanating from his chest.

“I can’t say I ever thought I would hear you say that,” he murmured proudly.

“You… battle…”

Allura quickly looked over her shoulder as Nanny swooned, collapsing on the ground.

“Is she alright?”

Allura glanced Lotor’s way.

“She does that sometimes.  I’ll call for the help.  Let’s get ready to head back to Castle Doom.  We have work to do.”

She covered her mouth suddenly, a blush touching her cheeks.

“Allura?”

“I bet you never thought I’d say _that_ , either, did you?”

A dark, vicious laugh echoed in the room and he only shook his head in response.

“I’ll prepare the shuttle – Cossack is hovering nearby, out of the flight path of the lions.  We can meet up with the command ship.”

She nodded.

“I’ll be ready soon.  I have a couple things to do first.”

* * *

After having the staff collect Nanny and make sure her faint was cared for, Allura found herself meandering quietly through a room she had spent very little time in prior but had quickly become the single most important place in her castle.

She set an empty satchel on one of the ancient work tables, a plume of dust curling up.

Footfalls marked her journey deeper into the archaic chambers.  Books, tomes, manuscripts and diagrams blurred past her as she recounted all the steps her father had taken before her.

Bile rose in her throat as the enormity of the task settled into her.

“I will be giving the Drule Empire _everything_ I fought to keep from them for so long.  …I’m sorry, Father.  But, they are my friends now, and the Galaxy Alliance is not.”

With a hardened heart, she began gathering all she could of her father’s research, calculations and experimentations to best aid her in the greatest battle of her life.

Books dropped into the satchel, papers were pulled from the desk… diagrams torn down from walls.

“…I have to unmake all that you ever made, Father.  I’m _so_ sorry.  But… I think you would agree with me. …Whatever it takes to keep our people safe.”

She deposited some scrolls into the bag, exhaling as she bowed her head over it in reverent prayer.

“Best case scenario?  We reclaim him.   But, I must prepare for the worst; it _must_ not be allowed to be leveraged as a weapon.”

Her knees fell to the ground on the rough wooden floor as her palms touched her face.

“I’m so weak.  The most ideal strategy would’ve been to call their bluff.  Had they killed us in the command center… they would’ve never gotten our secrets.  …I surrendered our strength out of fear.  Out of weakness and compassion.”

Her hands cradled a dusty old parchment to her chest.

“…Am I so wrong that now I must face the ghosts of my past?  To undo… that which was always mine?”

A strange, feral growl surged in her core, startling her from her thoughts of self-deprecation.

Clarity blossomed.

“No, no not that.  I am doing what I have _always_ done.”

She rose elegantly to her feet, deftly rolling the worn scroll carefully into her bag.

“I am doing whatever it takes to keep my people safe. … ‘My people’ just extend a little further out into the galaxy now.  But… I don’t believe you would think me wrong for this, Father.  …I rather believe you would do the same.”

A warm smile laced her lips as she looked up to a familiar portrait on a wall.

King Alfor stood regally, as he always had in his images; but beside him, a tiny blond child hovered, her blue eyes wild and hungry for knowledge.

She snapped one last book shut and scoured the old workshop for any other useful materials.

* * *

“So… what is the protocol for your people,” she murmured, glancing his way as they stepped off the small shuttle and into the Drule warship.

Lotor tossed her a curious look as she shrugged in indifference.

“If you think my people don’t already know about the… _you know what_ by now…  News like that will spread like wildfire… …Especially with Nanny as the champion,” she murmured with a giggle.

“What don’t we know?”

Allura blinked, drawing up short as the double doors slid open, revealing both Cossack and Haggar.  The former bowed once before both monarchs, but a familiar, curious light twinkled in the latter’s eye, as if she already knew the answer.

“Nothing we need to concern ourselves with, I’m sure,” the witch replied, casting Allura a mystic’s smile as she approached.  “We can brief you on what we have discovered of the lions’ whereabouts.”

Allura nodded, a blush on her cheeks.  She cast a demure look Lotor’s way, only to catch the faintest hint of a fanged grin. The subtle squeeze to her hand reassured her lingering question with an unspoken answer: _I’ll tell you soon._

The queen found herself striding confidently beside him as they made their way through the command ship.

The duo split apart as the monarchs approached, Cossack falling to Lotor’s side, Haggar courting Allura’s.

As the commander began reciting the details of the last known whereabouts of the Alliance fleet, Haggar winked in Allura’s direction and she felt a heat flush across her cheeks.  A murmur of coordinates from the other side of Lotor caught her attention.

“Wait, they’re _where?_ That’s completely outside the Crimson Quadrant already!”

She froze in her tracks, staring agape as the trio paused, turning to look at her.  Cossack shrugged and glanced down to the data pad in front of him before confirming his information.

A nervous sweat broke out along her brow and Lotor frowned.

“Allura, you of all people should know that those are possibly _the_ fastest machines in existence,” he pointed out.

She only shook her head once.  Her eyes pressed closed as a frustrated exhale blew through her nose.

“No, I’m just furious – it means they’ve figured out how to overclock the power crystals with a warp matrix,” she muttered.  “And here I was feeling so proud of myself when I first figured it out.”

She marched past them in a furious huff, her companions retaking their pace at her side as Cossack continued the report warily, mindful of the queen’s unusual temper.

As they stepped into the command center of the warship, Allura’s demeanor softened and she skimmed the Drulish landscaping around her.

“Allura?”

Lotor turned at her sudden quietude and she cast him a strange smile.

“Sometimes it still strikes me oddly to be on the other side of it for once,” she murmured cryptically, gliding forward as he took his place at the command chair.  Cossack and Haggar fell into alignment nearby.

“My dear, how could you possibly feel out of place in a Drule warship?”  He turned to look at her, beckoning her to his side with an outstretched palm.

She approached, her unease vanishing with a gentle smile.

“And why would you say that?”

“You fashioned a bludgeon out of what looked like a table leg.”

“She _what now?_ ”

Cossack’s golden expression swiveled to her with new appreciation as she shrugged demurely.

“Oh, …you saw that.  Yes, I needed something... just in case I… ran into any, ah, _issues_. _”_

 “You needed something to beat those idiots with,” Cossack corrected with his normal level of politeness.

“I… yes, I suppose so,” she admitted with a blush.

“Did you?”

Allura blinked at the Drule.

“…Did I what?”

“Beat them with it?  Or, really anything.  Shoot them?  Stab?  Eviscer-”

“Enough,” Lotor’s voice cut in, catching sight of Allura’s paling skin.

“What,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, muttering under his breath.  “They deserved it.”

“…Yes.”

All eyes in the room swiveled on her at her whisper and her skin when from pale to beet red.

“I’m sorry, what?” Cossack leaned forward, not entirely certain what he was hearing.

“I… incapacitated a few with the makeshift bludgeon, yes,” she admitted nervously.

A low whistled sounded from the man as Haggar cackled gleefully in appreciation.

“I wanted to save the knife in case there were no other options,” she explained, withdrawing the blade from where it still hung beneath the ribbon of her gown and presented it to Lotor.  He shook his head once, closing her fingers around the weapon.

“It’s yours,” he promised.  “Though, I hope you never have to use it.”

“That sounds strange coming from you,” she teased, taking the blade back into her position.  “You’re always so quick to draw your own.”

A wicked grin flashed across his lips in response.

“Yes but, I can’t have my wife getting hurt now, can I?”

A deep flush warmed her skin.  As playful as the words were on the surface, they stirred something deeper and more intimate within her.  Silence settled between them, and Allura struggled to break eye contact.

“So, what’s the plan, Sire?”  Cossack’s question following a nervous throat clear quickly evaporated the tension.  Lotor’s eyes swiveled to his second-in-command.  “Ships? Fleets?  Maybe we can even borrow an ion cannon again…”

The Drules stiffened in surprise when it was Allura who answered the question.

“All of it.  Ships, for certain.  If it’s possible to reconstruct those terrible machines, they can be our insurance. I fully anticipate once the Galaxy Alliance has taken the lions back to their base, they’ll inspect them, perhaps rearm them – if their engineers are clever enough, they might even be able to _recreate_ them.  I don’t expect anything they can produce to be nearly as strong as the original, my father took care in how he made them.  But… they will still be formidable.  Their ultimate goal will be to use those ships to bring down the Empire, or at least pressure it – _us_ – into a total surrender.”

Allura’s heart hitched at the sentence.

_Her_ ships.  Causing damage to _her_ people.

Her brow furrowed, rage billowing just beneath the surface of her calm exterior.

“However.  We’ll need more.”

Cossack quirked an eyebrow at the quiet fury emanating from the lithe woman.

“What else… can we do? We can do the cannons, get those out to the far points to act as defense turrets,” he ticked off his fingers.  “We already have several command ships we can scatter, but we’ll need to leave some close to Doom.”

“They won’t come for the heart right away,” Lotor shook his head once.  “We can afford to send most of the vessels out.  They’re looking to completely crush us – they’ll start from the outside and work their way in, choking off the center.”

Allura’s brow furrowed, tossing him a wary look.

“How… are you so certain?”

“Because that’s precisely how you conquer, my dear.  Going for the heart only draws the outside in to you.  You may take the leader, yes, but the people will prevail.  Take the fringe, wear them down, and then the core is all for the taking.”

Allura felt a nervous lump twist in her stomach.

“You… know a lot about that.”

He only hummed in response, not wishing to go into further detail of his militaristic campaigns.  Allura exhaled, recovering herself.

“Then we need to hit them first, and make sure we are able to match anything they can throw at us.  Haggar,” she turned to the witch, her eyes alight with flame once more.

“You’re not saying…”

“That’s right - we need robeasts. And this time, I’ll help you build them to bring down Voltron.”


	28. Pallesthesia

She knew he was behind her before he said anything; she could _feel_ his presence anywhere.  What had once been an oppressive and even frightening energy had become a warm and welcoming one with trials, time, and eventually, trust.

Lotor’s large palms curled around her forearms, his frame coming to stand behind her seat.  Slowly, his hands drew up, dusting her shoulders.

Allura released a shaky exhale when his fingers fanned out, one palm curling delicately around her bare throat, the other continuing up to lace through her hair.  With the softest flex of muscle, Allura found her head relaxing until it rested against the back of her chair, his fingers drawing wicked designs over her exposed flesh.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his voice rough and heavy, gently nudging her face to tilt up, exposing more of her throat and drawing her eyes to him.

Her chest hitched at his touch, a familiar heat coiling down her spine.

“I missed you, too,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper at his lazy touch.  Allura didn’t need to look around the room to know that they were alone working in Haggar’s lab, the sketches and books from her father’s archive scattered across the table in front of her; easily forgotten in the searing heat of his touch.

The words she spoke had been an instinctive reflex, but the truth of the sentiment settled in her very bones in a way that made her soul ache.

She _had_ missed him.

Dearly.

_Desperately._

The ordeal had naturally drawn her desire for his strength and protection, but there was so much _more_ that she needed from him.

_That she wanted._

The expertise with which he touched her proved her point as she exhaled, feeling home, at last.

_Home._

A laugh barked from her throat as her eyes popped open, stilling the warlord behind her.  Home, with a Drule conqueror at her back, his hands quite literally about her throat, sitting in the center of a witch’s lair with her father’s secrets scattered around her.

“Allura?”

“I’m home,” she whispered, laughing at the absurdity of the truth.

“They’ll never touch you again, I swear it.”

A lazy smile curled at her lips at the promise – it was a certainty that she could never doubt.

Plans had moved with expedited speed since returning from Arus, she realized briefly she hadn’t had much time to offer him with their defensive scramble.  Allura found that, despite the mounting alarm over their current hostile situation, she felt utterly unresponsive to the task in front of her, and far more interested in the glittering eyes above her.

Lotor leaned forward until he came nose to nose with her, his hand in her hair firm while the fingers lazily stroked up and down the side of her neck.

As her lips parted slightly with a subtle gasp, he closed the distance between them, stealing her breath for an inverted kiss.  The king wasted no time, his tongue diving past her own, greedy for the woman he thought he’d lost to his own temper.

A deep, undeniable moan bubbled from the back of her throat, her hands leaving the work table before her to reach for him, snaking around the back of his head.

His tongue curled with hers, thrusting with an unmistakable promise as his hands released her head, only to slowly slide down her torso, pausing boldly to caress over her breasts.

A hiccup of a startled gasp echoed from her before Allura allowed herself to be freely consumed by him, returning the kiss with matching vigor.  As she tilted her head further to engage him deeper, her back arched away from the chair, pressing herself into his waiting hands.

A feral growl rumbled through his body as his exploration became bolder with her openness.  Allura didn’t realize she’d parted her knees instinctively until his hands danced lower on her body, his wingspan giving him ample reach.

The queen’s nails curled into his scalp, pulling him closer still, nipping at his bottom lip playfully to encourage her husband.

Both eager royals froze at the same moment, their kiss halted and his palms stilled.

Allura’s eyes flew open wide to catch his gaze as he pulled back slightly, both breathing heavily.

“Oh,” she whispered in realization.

His wide hands nearly wrapped around her midsection, paused over the space she carried their unborn.  What had moments earlier been a fiery hunger quickly shifted to a pious reverence.

Pulling her back along with her chair, Lotor stepped around in front of her, carefully coming to his knees between her thighs and pressed his forehead to her abdomen.

Allura couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out, her fingers gently stroking through his hair affectionately.

“Do not mock me,” he muttered against her, but she could _hear_ the smile in his voice, even as he hid his face from her.

“The great Drule warrior…” she murmured in jest, drawing a rumble from his throat in mock annoyance.

“You do not want to do that,” he purred softly, his nose suddenly skimming up her torso to pause by her ear.

Lotor’s large palms closed over her thighs, effectively caging her in place as he drew his lips along her jaw.  As she wiggled, his fingers flexed, stilling her movement altogether.

“And what if I do?”

Allura held her breath when his entire body went still, power and strength coiled and braced to move.

A second ticked.

Neither moved.

Just as Allura began to exhale, everything snapped in a whirlwind.

Books clattered to the floor behind the king, parchment drifting slowly behind them.  Before the fragile sheets finished falling, Allura found herself on her back, pinned beneath the Drule on the very surface she had been working on.

She blinked up in wonderment at his speed before the heated, knowing look in his eyes rekindled the fire in her abdomen.

“You’ve made your point,” she whispered appreciatively.

“Not yet, I haven’t,” he promised.

Allura released a delicious gasp for air against him as he pressed his forehead to hers, his thighs wedging her own apart.

“This is hardly the time-”

Her words devolved into a whimper when his fingers brushed around her calves, slowly hitching up her dress.

“Or… or the place to – _oh_.”

His hands had already curled around her waist, pulling her fully against him.  A shiver ran down her spine; even through the layers of their clothing, she could feel his want firm against her own.

Emboldened by his desire, she slowly rose into a sitting position, pressing him back to the floor until he stood before her.

A curious light flickered across his expression and he answered her lead.

His long fingers gripped her calves once more, pulling her to the edge of the table.  In a single, sinful motion, she wrapped her legs around his waist, linking her ankles together behind him.

As her own arms caged his shoulders, he began to tug at the drape around her torso.

“No, no, I-”

He set the navy mark of royalty aside before returning his gaze to her.  Her eyes were impossibly wide, her cheeks a color to rival her gown.

“I want to see you,” he murmured in response.

“ _Here?_ ”

Her words betrayed a sense of insecurity and indecency at the thought of being caught.  His lips chased her own and with a gentle, teasing nip to her lower lip, he purred against her quietly.

“No one would dare disturb us, my sweet.”

Allura hesitated, drawing an unconscious guttural sound from Lotor as her thighs flexed around his hips.

“But what if they did?”

“And so?”

His brow creased in confusion as he cradled her small frame against his, content to support her entirely, the queen none too hurried to leave his hold.

“What shames you?  Is it me?”

Sky-colored eyes popped wide as she stared at him in near-horror.

“ _What?_ ”

“I am proud of the woman I have taken for my wife,” he murmured against her gently, his body swaying slightly as if rocking her.  “I would build statues in your honor across the stars so that all would look upon you and see the goddess that I see. If you would only let me.”

Her hands twisted into the fabric of his shirt, one openly placed over his chest – his heart, the other winding up his back and coiling over his shoulder.  The support was unneeded; his strength dwarfed her and she felt no fear of slipping from him, entirely secure in his embrace.

“I’m… I’m not…”

“Not what?  A goddess?”

Her nose pressed against his chest, pulling her eyes from his as a blush dusted her cheeks.

“I’m just one woman,” she murmured quietly into him, afraid to meet his eyes.

“And I am just one man,” he replied quietly.  His chest trembled beneath her open palm. She blinked, her fingers flexing over the foreign sensation.  A hint of a rumble edged his words, hinting to the manner in which he had briefly spoken at the Garrison.

Allura slowly turned and looked up at him.

“How long have you been able to… to talk like that?  …Like the…” Her brow creased, her own culture hindering her ability to procure the proper language.

“The warcry?”

She nodded.

“I’ve always been able to do it, Allura.  It’s a part of me. It’s like the blood in my veins or the beat of my heart.”

“Why have I not ever heard it before?”

He shifted her against him, tugging her bodily closer before he answered her, thinking heavily on the question.

“While it is something that can be called upon as needed in the way you might choose to sing if you felt so inclined, certain… _situations_ are more prone to draw it from us than others.”

“Situations?”

“We do not take kindly to those we consider ours to be harmed in any way.”

“Yours?  I’m-”

He silenced her with a brief kiss against her lips.

“I mean that phrase in the most reverent,” he paused, pressing his lips against her forehead. “and pious way possible, Allura,” he finished with a peck against her cheek.  “You are _mine_.  Not as a commodity to possess, but as a goddess to worship.  I am yours, in every way you would see fit to use, take, and have me.”

Tears budded at the corners of her eyes with his words.

“Great stars,” she whispered the magnitude of it all weighing heavily in her chest.

“I’ve… restrained that baser instinct,” he continued, nuzzling the tears from her cheeks softly.  “I didn’t want…” he exhaled, changing the course of his explanation. “I know what I am frightens you.  The warcry is just physical evidence of what I am and what I am capable of. I-”

A hand against his cheek stilled his words as Allura stared up at him openly, a warm smile on her lips.

“…I love it.”

Golden eyes widened at her admission, voice stolen from his lips.

“And I love _you._ ”

Her words fell heavy between them – the first time she had uttered them since her call from the Alliance’s capitol, and the first time she had ever spoken them to his face.

As silence filled the room and dragged on, Allura shifted slightly.

“Could… could I hear it again?”

Impossibly wide eyes the color of amber grew larger still, staring down with disbelief at the unfathomable woman.

“You… would want to?”

Her eyes lit hard with both excitement and determination.

“Yes.  I… I like the sound of it.  I didn’t even know it was something that existed until the other day,” she murmured, her eyes drifting from his shyly.  “But I felt like I had known it all my life.”

“Allura.”

Her eyes flashed back to his playfully as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

He pressed his eyes closed for a moment, as if focusing on something.  As his lids lifted, a decadent, deliciously _feral_ look glinted behind his irises.

“ _Allura._ ”

The name rumbled not from his throat as it often did, but from his chest with a primal need.  A shiver rolled down her spine at the lethal sound. The gravelled tone of her name sounded like steel and lazon, promised of unending loyalty, and whispered of sanctuary.  Deep within the coils of her soul, her body _answered_.

A molten liquid slid down her spine, pooling in her abdomen at his call, need burned through her, scorching her skin, igniting her bones and stealing her breath.

“Yes,” she whispered back, her voice gone with the air in her lungs.

“ _What do you want?_ ”

Fathomless oceanic eyes softened at the lover’s beckon.

“You,” she answered automatically.  “I want you.”

There was no truth more profound, no verity more precise than the words that fell from her lips.  No shade of doubt, no hesitation, no artificial construction could design something more spectacular than that which her very heart wove before him.

“I… I think I’ve always wanted you, even if it frightened me before,” she added, her fingers lacing through his hair as she felt her back press into the design table once more.

His lips seared her, silencing any other verbal communication between them, his flesh speaking to her own in a way their words could not.

He tore away the gloves over his palms, allowing his hands to roam openly, worshiping the skin beneath him.

From the slender joint of her ankles, over the swell of muscle in her calves, the curve of fertility in her hips, everywhere his fingers praised, Allura glowed.

He broke their kiss briefly.

“I promise I will get you a new one.”

When Allura only blinked in confusion, his hands left her calves before reaching to the neckline of her dress.

His lips snared hers once more, devouring the cry that echoed from her throat as he ripped the infernal gown wide open, casting the cursed fabric aside.

The strain of fabric stretching and stitches snapping shocked the princess, but the lethal promise the man above her made soothed her insecurity.

A rolling rumble sounded from deep within his chest.  As his lips assaulted, even bruised her own, she welcomed it.  She embraced all of it; Allura was hungry for all that was him; the king, the conqueror, the soldier, and the peacebringer.

The drape itself was safely folded where he had placed it – _had he known?_ She wondered briefly.  Unlike the unique symbol of royalty, a gown could easily be replaced, as well as the undergarments he quickly shredded from her body.

Allura’s face flushed hot, but the heavy, purr-like rumble called to a deeper part of her being and her very core ached for him with such need that her modesty was sundered and cast aside, not unlike the shreds of fabric.

“ _Allura._ ”

Her name vibrated from his secondary cords in a manner she felt could shatter worlds.

“Yes, please,” she exhaled weakly, welcoming her conqueror.

Her eyes pressed closed as she exhaled, enraptured by the sensation of his hands roaming up and down her bared body.  No skin left untouched, no curl left un-caressed.

The queen of the empire was positively panting beneath him within moments, a warm neediness pooling rapidly between her thighs.

Her eyelashes fluttered open and she glanced up at him, a bemused smile curling at her lips delicately.  Somewhere in the haze and fluster, his own clothing had been cast aside, likely sundered with a similar, voracious enthusiasm.

With stars blinding her vision and obscuring her memory, Allura couldn’t recall precisely when the man had rid himself of his garments.

“Someday,” she whimpered briefly as his fingers curled between her legs gently.  “Someday I shall tear those off of you in retribution,” she promised, mid-pant.

A snarl of approval sounded from him in response, his fingers thrusting into her suddenly.  Allura cried out in quick pleasure, her back arching up into him at the rapid penetration – her body more than welcoming the delectable intrusion.

“Please,” she begged weakly, eliciting another rumble.  She recognized that it could have just as easily been a dark chuckle, but as he allowed is more Drulish tendencies to take control; to relax the leash he had held over them, the lethal growl permeated instead.

She whimpered, feeling fully exposed and wanting nothing more than all of him at once.

“ _Gods below us._ ”

Allura cursed something undainty as he thrust against her repeatedly.  Her muscles contracted against his long fingers sharply, her entire body quivering on the brink of pleasure far too soon.

“ _No,_ ” he commanded, the dominant tone nearly throwing her over the edge entirely.  “ _Not yet._ ”

She whined as he leaned over her once more, licking at her taut nipple, his fangs grazing across the flesh of her breast.

“Stars, Lotor, you cannot expect me to-”

“ _Oh, but I do._ ”

The hum of his voice spasmed her inner coils and he withdrew his hand entirely from between her legs to give her a slight reprieve from the impending shudder.

She bucked against nothing in frustration.

“Lotor,” she whined feverishly, her body quivering for more of his touch.

He wasted little time, the weight of his sculpted muscles pressing into her.  As quickly as he may have wished to claim the squirming font of sunshine, he did withhold his greed.

A delighted moan fell from her lips wantonly as his head, slicked with both their desire, gently eased its way into her.

A sharp, ragged inhale caused her chest to buckle, her ribs expanding with the static sparks thrumming across her body.

“Stars,” she whispered.  Where Lotor only seemed capable of the table-trembling vibrations, Allura had been reduced to short, staccato words amidst her heavy gasps.

Only once fully contained inside her body did he dare open his eyes.

With palms firmly planted outside either of her shoulders, he leaned over her prone, naked body.  Every curve was highlighted, every dip shadowed; the exquisite creature born of Arus was bared and brilliant before him.

Despite the near-perfection that was all that she was, nothing in the stars compared to the flushed expression on her face.  Her eyes, once-frigid with hatred and contempt, stared up at him with openness, longing and a welcoming warmth. Her lips were reddened from their heated kiss, while golden hair fanned out in a tussle behind her.

She lay beneath him, demure and content, the fiery ruler who bent the knee to no man, lay happily docile beneath him, submitting to his desire.

Willingly.

_Wantingly._

_Asking him for more._

He obliged.

With agonizing slowness, he withdrew before surging against her once more, Allura unable to resist the soft moan from her throat.  A weak, guttural cry quickly followed and Lotor froze.

He leaned over until his nose dusted against her cheek.

“Are you alright?”

“I won’t be,” she gasped softly.  “…if you stop like that again.”

A lethal, wicked look glinted in his eyes.

“But I could stay here for hours,” he taunted gingerly, enjoying the display of raw desire blooming across her face.

“Lotor!”

She cursed his name as the arrogant man continued to remain perfectly still, despite his queen’s attempts at squirming, desperate for any sort of friction she could find.

“ _Allura,_ ” he growled her name in his primitive fashion, his eyebrows rising at the sharp cry she released in response, her body convulsing around his length.

He hadn’t even moved, yet her softness had responded to his call and the noise she made was the most vocal his shy queen had ever been before.

A sinfully proud grin curled at his lips and he leaned closer and pressed his lips to her throat.  With the feral reverberations of his auxiliary tone, he murmured against her flesh, his entire body vibrating.

“ _Is this what you wanted to hear?”_

Allura released a frustrated cry as latent heat surged through her body and she bucked her hips up against him with a needing noise.

“Oh stars,” she whispered, catching her breath.  “Oh stars, _yes._ ”

“ _The stars have nothing to do with this_ ,” he teased gently in a rumble, still sending the tectonic trembles across her flesh, but he retook his rhythm inside her.  His tempo was faster than their usual, gentle courtships, but Allura was more than prepared, even craving the tint of harshness that came along with it.

Her hips settled into a motion with his, her body jarred slightly by his strength, but she only asked for more.

Spasms rocked through her and in the span of a few breaths, sparks lit her vision as she cried out, her body clenching around him.

A dark, deep chuckle vibrated against her throat as he stilled in his motions, waiting for her to gently coast back down to him from her crescendo’s break.

As Allura’s heaving chest slowed, he spoke to her lazily, his fingertips brushing her flushed cheeks.

“ _I did not give you permission for that, my dear._ ”

Allura’s eyes popped wide in surprise, the deep tone sending a fresh wave of shivers down her spine, recharging her desire.

She swallowed, staring up into his golden gaze.

“Oh,” she murmured.

“ _Let’s try again,_ ” he purred once more.  In a single, easy motion, he stepped back, his erection still firm.

“Wha-”

Allura could barely breathe the question out before she found herself bodily maneuvered, the cold metal of the drawing table pressing into her bare breasts.

On instinct, her fingertips curled around the topmost edge of it, bracing, but Lotor did not retake her immediately.

His palm instead pressed flat against the curve in the small of her back before slowly, leisurely sliding up her spine.  At the nape of her neck, his fingers laced decadently through her free-flowing hair, curling it around his palm.

The grip was firm but not painful and he gently tilted her head to the side until her cheek pressed flush against the cold surface.

He leaned over her, his presence dark and dominating.  His lips brushed her ear the same instance his fingers danced over her exposed arousal, drawing a keening noise from her.

“ _Wait for me this time,_ ” he teased sinfully, the tips of his nails just ghosting over.  She wiggled her hips once, but found herself wholly pinned to the table beneath him.

“Yes,” she whispered weakly, surprised by the fact her body responded so quickly to his touch.

Allura was only briefly disappointed when his touch left her before he replaced it with the entirety of his masculinity, once more staking his claim upon her welcoming body.

A deep cry of pleasure echoed from her as he eased back into the pace he had taken with her prior, her frame pinned and prone before him.

Her breathless gasps came in quicker succession, and his lips curled against the flesh of her neck as he hovered over her, his hand still curled within her locks, maintaining her immobility.

“Lotor,” she whispered, shards of light searing to her core.

“Not yet,” he encouraged quickly, drawing his tongue up the length of her throat.

Something cusped inside her, the latent heat pooling to the brink of an overload.  Allura wasn’t sure how the man expected her to hold back when he gave her no options, pinned between him and the table.

She grunted softly, struggling to tamp down the rising cacophony inside her.

“ _Come for me,_ ” he growled in his feral tone against her throat without warning. “ _Now.”_

The second his teeth dug into the flesh on her shoulder, Allura _shattered._

She barely recognized the scream that left her throat as her entire body came undone in a blinding kaleidoscope of light.  

Allura wasn’t entirely sure how long it took her to come down from the ungodly blissful high her husband had incited, but when she did, she found herself settled on the floor against him, wrapped in the crimson cloak he always wore, his lips nuzzling softly against the offended place on her flesh.

“I…”

She trailed off, her voice surprisingly hoarse.

“Just rest for now,” he murmured.  “You were _very_ good,” he praised, sending a flush from her nose to her toes.

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” she replied softly, settling in against his chest.

She felt his chest tremble beneath her as he chuckled darkly.

“I told you I would find a way to make you scream for me.”

Her cheeks darkened and she buried her head against his chest.

“Yes, yes you did,” she agreed.  “You certainly did.”

“How are you feeling?”  Lotor gentled nudged her away from his chest so he could look down over her, a concerned look marring his features.

“A little sore,” she admitted. “Oh don’t look so worried,” she chastised gently when the frown deepened.

“I… kind of liked it,” she explained shyly, averting her eyes.  “...Quite a bit.” She chanced a look back to him, expecting a proud taunt in his eyes.

She found none.

Open awe graced his face as he stared at the fierce woman he had taken for his wife.

“ _Good._ ”

Allura blushed hot at the sound.

“Stop that, we still have an empire to save, you know.”  She tapped his chest tartly. “Now that you’ve destroyed my clothes, how do you propose I leave here with any shred of decency?  Hm?”

He tossed his head back and laughed openly before gently untangling their bodies.

“I will get you another of your gowns and bring it back here,” he promised as he rose to his feet, hoisting Allura up with him.

Lotor righted the chair that had been hastily knocked aside and gently set the woman still bundled in his drape on the seat.

“And how will you-”  She trailed off mid-sentence as Lotor promptly began stepping into his leggings.  “...I thought you tore those, too!”

“What? Why would I do that?”

Allura’s face darkened as the tunic fell into place over his torso.

“ _Because you tore mine!_  I thought it was a lack of control issue!”

He paused as he fastened his skull belt in place and glanced at her curiously.

“I assure you, I was entirely in control.  ...I’ve just always wanted to tear that dress off ever since I first laid eyes on you.”

Allura’s furious lips popped open to scold him, but at the impish grin on his face, she pressed them closed once more in annoyance, utterly unable to be furious with her scoundrel of a husband.

“Just… go get me another one, please,” she muttered.  “Before Haggar comes back. Better yet - the black fatigues.  They’ll be easier to work in.”

With one last cocky grin, he placed his palm over his heart in cheeky arrogance, offering her a reverent bow.

“As my queen commands,” he replied before turning on heel, departing the room to fetch her change of clothes.

Allura exhaled, leaning her head back.

“Incorrigible rogue,” she muttered to no one in particular, but she couldn’t contain the deeply satisfied smile on her lips.


	29. Persistence

Allura wiped her brow as she straightened up, glancing over her shoulder to the king.  Her forehead creased at his look of concern.

“Something wrong?”

She sidled over to him, peering around his arm to see what had snared his attention so raptly.

“No,” he replied after a moment, not lifting his eyes from the book open on the worktable before him.

“Then what is it?”

“Something I never thought I’d see.”

Allura’s heart turned as she immediately recognized her father’s scrawling script, the leather-bound tome housing all the information on infracells open before the Drule.

She exhaled sadly but could only shrug.

“Desperate times,” she murmured, turning away from him to meander across the lair, pausing by the robeast chamber.

Lotor turned to face her as she walked away, stilling to consider his next question.

“Are we doing this the hard way?  We could just enlarge one of the gladiators.”

She froze, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“They’ve never won against Voltron before.  I think we need something a bit more…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Arusian?” He supplied curiously.  A soft blush tinted her cheeks and she nodded.

“Yes, I believe so.  There should be a navy book over there as well.”

“There is,” he confirmed.

“I believe that was his study on dynotherms.  I think that will be what we should plan next.”

“Do you truly intend to build an entire robot from scratch?”  His golden eyes narrowed on her and Allura faltered as she considered the insurmountable objective before them.

“How goes the progress?”

Allura’s gaze slid to the door as it opened, the witch making her way into her recently-conquered lair, Lotor’s chilling question forgotten.

The queen caught movement from the corner of her eye, and she glanced over as her husband discreetly nudged a pink scrap of fabric under the table with his toe.

“I… we’re still in the planning phase,” she murmured, struggling to dampen the heat on her cheeks as she focused her attention on the witch.

A brow rose at her response but the woman said nothing.

“Ah, thank you for letting us use your… workspace,” she added quickly.

The silence stretched between them as the crone studied the Arusian intently, as if trying to pry the secrets from her mind.  If Haggar were aware of precisely what sort of activity had been previously occupying the monarchs, she blessedly let it drop.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Allura replied, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“You’re a bit paler than usual,” the witch commented.  “We’ll need to keep a close eye on you as the child develops.”

A loud, heavy thud sounded across the work room as the book she had been holding fell to the ground, her palms finding purchase on her stomach.

“How did you-”

“Please, I can tell things like that.”  The witch offered her hand to Allura, a nonverbal request for permission.  The queen dropped her hands to her side and nodded, allowing Haggar to place her palm over her stomach.  “I’ve just been waiting for _you_ to figure it out.  It seemed impolite to be the one to share such news. …Clearly your Galaxy Alliance holds no such manners.”

A giddy excitement flushed through her at the mention of the unborn, her fear and fury forgotten.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?  He’s going to be wonderful,” she cooed softly, the thrum of the prospect of new life humming through her.

A grin twisted at the witch’s lips.

“Remarkable, indeed,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.  “I trust you have everything you need?  Do I need to send the idiot your way for assistance?”

Allura’s eyes popped wide.

“I… idiot? Who-”

“I’m sure we could put Cossack to use,” Lotor chimed in.  “Once we know what we’re building, we’ll need extra hands.”

Allura pouted.

“You know I can help with that, right?”

“You are not lifting anything.”

“I am not an invalid,” she began, her eyes flashing to her husband irritably.

“About that,” Haggar chimed in, drawing the Arusian’s attention back her way.

“Yes, Haggar?”

Wordlessly, she answered the woman’s prodding by producing a small vial of a swirling, silvery liquid.

Allura balked at the glassware, her eyes shifting between the container and the witch, not daring to touch it.

“Not more potions,” she deadpanned, her memories flickering quickly to swirling pink cauldrons and aphrodisiacs.

“It’s not,” Haggar admitted, the vial catching her attention as her brow furrowed.

Allura glanced to Lotor just in time to catch a strained, concerned look on his taut features, his eyes narrowed on the object in the witch’s hand before his face returned to a state of impassiveness.

“Haggar – she’s barely a month in.  Supplemental infusions aren’t needed until the end of the pregnancy.”

 “If the mother is Drule,” she began, taking Allura’s palm and placing the vial in the center.  “That would be accurate.”

Allura’s fingers uncurled as she glanced back down to the strange fluid, her attention becoming more serious.

“What… what _is_ this?”

 Lotor sighed as he approached the females, coming to stop at Allura’s side.  He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his face tiredly.

 “Drule infants require silver to develop properly both inside and outside the womb.  Often, as the child comes to term, mothers will need to consume outside supplements to keep up with the demand.  Our bodies can produce it naturally in small amounts – as adults we do not require it.  A near-mature infant often requires more than can be naturally provided,” he said gently.  “It’s… just our biology.”

 Allura turned her gaze up at him curiously.

 "But… I am still very early,” she whispered. “Why would I need this?”

 “Because you cannot produce any at all, dearie,” Haggar replied, Allura’s gaze swiveling to look back to her.  “We will need to work closely with both your physician and one of ours to make sure this is done in the right dosage.  It will start in minimal amounts, and gradually more will be required.”

 The witch hesitated before continuing.

 “My understanding is that at too large of a dose, this metal becomes toxic to you.”

 Allura nodded numbly.

 “Silver? It would, yes,” she agreed.  “There’s no substitution for this?”

 “Not if you want to continue the child.  It will either drain you of everything you have to sustain itself, or it will be lost – the fatigue is already present in you, dear.  Your skin is paler.  If you aren’t already feeling the symptoms of it, you will soon.”

 A low growl at her side drew her eyes back to Lotor, once more catching the tense lines edging his face.

 “Lotor?”

 “…I need to go take care of something.  I’ll be back.”

 With no other explanation, he left the witch’s lair and a stunned Allura behind him.

 “Is he… upset?”

 “He doesn’t show concern very well,” Haggar answered with a shrug.  “It’s never been a strong suit of his.”

 A smile touched at Allura’s lips as she stared after the warlord.

 “So true,” she conceded, touched by the odd display, marveling at how she had learned to understand the man with time and patience.

 “Eventually you will want to make an announcement – if the people find out you did not tell them right away, there will be some hurt feelings,” Haggar mentioned.

Curious eyes slid back to the witch.

“Is there a… formal or traditional way that’s done?  I don’t want to offend anyone.  I’m certain my people already know of it.  Nanny is not one to keep such secrets.”

“I don’t think you could offend anyone even if you _did_ want to. But no, just a formal statement would suffice.  Though – we’ll need to make arrangements for your Gathering Ceremony.”

Allura blinked.

“My what?”

A gnarled hand patted Allura’s shoulder almost affectionately as she turned to amble out of the room.

“You’re in for a treat, dear.  Now, mind yourself as you work – don’t stress yourself too much.  I’ll send Cossack your way to help you. …Or at least entertain you.”

She blinked, dumbfounded, as the door slid closed again, leaving her alone in the room.

* * *

Allura stepped out of the shower, pausing to pat down her damp hair.  Tucking the towel around her torso, she palmed open the door between the master suite and the bath.

“Oh!”

She froze.

At the sound of her voice, Lotor turned to face her, revealing a new, pink gown in pristine condition hanging behind him, a delicious smirk on his lips.

“As promised.”

“Are you going to tear this one apart, too?”

“Perhaps eventually,” he replied with a snicker, stepping aside so she could dress.

Allura was intimately aware at how shamelessly his eyes devoured her skin as she let the towel drop away, but he did not advance on her.

“The modeling for the infracells finished. There does not appear to be any issues.  We should be clear to move forward,” he said offhandedly, his eyes lingering on the bounce of her breast as she fastened her lingerie around her ribs.

His voice caught slightly at the end of the sentence when Allura raised her arms up, pulling her damp hair into a wet bun on top of her head.

“Don’t move,” he rasped out, freezing her in her tracks.  Her wide eyes glanced his way curiously.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Lotor’s eyes studied her intently, slender body wrapped in lace, back arched and hands threaded through her hair.

“Nothing.  I just want to look upon you.”

Pink colored her skin suddenly and she glared, quickly resuming her routine.

“We don’t have time for that.  The lions are out there causing destruction,” she huffed, tugging the dress on over her head. “ _My_ lions,” she amended bitterly.

“Where is your serum?”

Allura paused as the dress settled over her shoulders.

“Ah, there,” she gestured to the dresser top.

Lotor walked across the room and lifted the small container.

“It’s still completely full,” his brow furrowed.

“I haven’t had any symptoms yet so… it seemed… unwise to take something potentially dangerous if I’m not yet having the illness it’s designed to correct.”

The glass made a soft _tink_ as he set it back down on the marble dresser, his fingertips trailing along the deep scratches left in the side of the furniture.  While it would’ve been simple to have it detailed or replaced, he found a comfort in the mark of his bride’s strength and will.

“I brought you something else,” he said after a moment of quiet reflection, catching Allura’s attention.

As she stood before him, he reached for her, unfastening the slender cord around her waist that belted her gown together.

“Lotor!  Surely you cannot mean to undress me! I just-”

“No, not right now, my sweet.  Unless you’re asking me for it?”  His eyes glanced from the belt to her expression, a dangerous grin on his lips.

“No,” she huffed, batting him away as he pulled the belt with him.

He set aside the thin ribbon and turned to face her, a hefty, golden belt cut from leather and metal draped between his palms.

“What…”

When she offered no protest, he wrapped the sturdier garment around her waist where the fragile fabric had once rested, settling the Drulish accessory in place.  While elegant, slender and tailored to match the style of her gown, it boasted of a large scabbard on her left side, and a small utility pouch on her right.

“Lotor, what is this about?”

Wordlessly he turned his back on her confusion once more, and as he faced her, he cradled the very blade she had trained in the coliseum with.

“The ribbon on your dress would not have supported the weight of a sword,” he explained simply, sheathing the steel at her side. “And your dagger?”

She pointed numbly to where it rested near her boots and after he retrieved it, he hooked its sheath through the belt around her waist as well.

The vial of silver medicine was dropped daintily into the pouch on her right side before he stepped back to admire his work.

“It suits you,” he praised, reveling in the femininity but sturdiness of the piece as it cradled both steel designed to take life and the medicine designed to help create it.

“…Lotor?”

His face grew more tense before softening slightly.

“I just want you to be prepared.”

“…For?”

She stepped closer to him, her palms touching his chest openly.  His own hands scooped hers up, dwarfing them with their size and he brought her fingertips to his lips.

“My father will be roaming around again, and I want to make sure you have what you need to put a blade through his throat should it become necessary.  I believe we have come to a truce, but I don’t trust him.  Not with you.”

“Oh,” she trailed off, her fingertips brushing the metal of the hilt.  “Why though?  Why the change of heart?”

“It was necessary,” he murmured cryptically, eliciting a scowl from the queen.  “But keep these with you, and keep the medicine with you.  No telling when symptoms may start,” he added.

“You’re worried,” she hummed warmly, her palm reaching up to cup his cheek.

A deep rumble purred from his chest as he let his face fall into her touch, eyelids draping closed at the soft gesture.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered conspiratorially, a grin on her lips as his eyes flashed open suddenly.

“You are unfathomable,” he laughed darkly at her, leaning over to steal a kiss from her lips.

He palmed her sides openly, large hands curling about her waist as he touched the softness of her dress and the hardness of her steel - fully aware of the dichotomic woman before him.

Allura tilted her head back, breaking the kiss as she gasped for air.  Lotor tilted his nose down, brushing his lips against her throat.

“We should get back, you know,” he murmured against her flesh.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of his crimson wrap, tugging him closer.

“It can wait just a little longer,” she encouraged, much to his dark delight.

“So it can.”

* * *

“So what’s this doohickey do?”

A smile curled at Allura’s lips as she glanced over to Cossack as he held one of her father’s notebooks up, tilting the schematic sideways as he squinted.

“Those, I believe,” she paused, leaning over to double check.  “Are intended to be the connectors to the power crystals.”

“So… they transfer the power?”

“Yes,” she answered, mirth in her voice at the curious commander.

Her eyes returned to her own book in front of her, a theoretical study of lazon properties.  Doubt was beginning to dig into her veins – the further she delved into her father’s work, the more she realized just how difficult the task before her would be.

“Allura?”

The queen raised her eyes to meet her husband’s across the workspace.  Once more the table was littered with volumes, scrolls and blank parchment, but a blush still touched Allura’s cheeks at the memory the surface held.

“I’m just… worried,” she murmured.

“We’ll win,” he promised.

Nearly a week had elapsed since the confiscation of her lion fleet and no physical progress had been made on the new robot.

“I’m… we’re attempting to recreate Voltron itself,” she murmured sadly.  “I’m not sure it can actually be done.  I’m…”  She exhaled, pressing her temple into her palms.  “I’m not an engineer.  Not like my father was.  This took him _years_ … it was his entire life’s work,” she explained, gesturing to the swath of information before them.  “And yet more still of it was only in his mind – secrets he took to his grave.  I’m beginning to think the idea of a robeast might be easier.”

He frowned, unsettled by how discontent the often passionate and optimistic woman appeared.  Allura’s shoulders dipped with fatigue, her skin a shade paler than usual.  He worried for her – and for their child.  The stress of the situation was unforgiving.

“You need rest,” he said at last.

Allura shook her head.  _Stubborn,_ he thought with a dry smirk.

“No, I am well.  We have far, far too much to do to rest needlessly.”

“It’s not needless if-”

He stilled when she leveled him with a gaze.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just… daunted by this task.  As much as I wished to emulate my father, this is precisely the area where I fall painfully short.  I don’t know how to build.  I can speak languages, end wars, but… build defenses?”

She pressed her face into her palms, muffling her snort of frustration.

“We can revisit the robeast idea.”

She peeked at him through her fingers.

“…don’t… don’t they start out as… well, living beings?”  Allura asked the question she had been dreading the answer to.  Since learning more of the process of robeast construction – and the mention of gladiators – a crawling sense of uncertainty had settled in her veins. 

“Yes,” he answered simply, knowing precisely where his wife’s thinking was headed.

“…I always thought they were simply robots,” she murmured, folding her arms across her chest uncertainly.

“Well, they were by the time you saw them,” Cossack explained, watching the Arusian closely.

“I’ve killed… so many people,” she whispered, horror lacing her words.

“Allura,” the king began, pressing up from his place at the table to move to her.

“Hey, no,” Cossack was the one to reach out first.  “Look, here’s how it works.  It’s an honor to become a robeast.  For us – at least then – to even have a _chance_ at bringing down Voltron – that’s a big deal.  The gladiators would fight against each other for the _prize_ of becoming a robeast, for earning power and strength.  It’s what they wanted.  The more of them that lost, the bigger the honor became.”

She blinked at him before huffing slightly.

“I don’t like it,” she muttered.

“Well, for the record, if you wanted to send robeasts after Voltron again, it would still be an honor.  You’d have people lining up to compete for a chance to do so.”

Her jaw tensed before relaxing entirely.

“Perhaps,” she conceded, glancing back to her husband.  When Lotor nodded reassuringly, Allura exhaled through her nose. “I’d like to explore other options first, before senselessly taking life.”

“It’s not senseless, it’s-”

Cossack trailed off when Lotor only shook his head once, the king easing himself back into his chair.  The commander shrugged and looked back to the book in front of him, trying to understand the engineering diagrams and notes.  What help the witch thought he could be, he couldn’t fathom.  Short of manual labor and actual building, he felt entirely out of his element.

He squinted at the sketch of the power connector.

“So… where does the power come from?”  He tried to direct the conversation – and the queen’s thoughts – off of robeasts.

Allura glanced back to him from the notes she was taking over her own studies, her face still tight.  It softened as she began considering the structure of Voltron once more.

“From the power crystal, of course.”

Lotor’s eyes glanced up from his own academics, quietly watching his wife as she conversed with his closest commander.

“No, I know,” he insisted, his brow furrowing as he squinted at the schematic. “But how does the power get in the crystals?  They’re like, batteries, right?”

“They come from the power bases,” she explained.  “They’re tied to the elements of Arus.  It’s why Blue Lion rests in the moat – to recharge its crystal.”

“So… like. …If the Galaxy Alliance isn’t on Arus, won’t the lions just like… run out of power?  Why don’t we just interrupt the link between the base and the crystal?”

Lotor’s eyes grew large in alarm as Allura’s skin turned sheet-white without warning.  Her eyes widened and she stared off into space.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Uh, are you… okay?”  Cossack leaned over, worried for his queen.

“Cossack, you’re a _genius_ ,” she breathed in wonderment, catching her breath suddenly.

“…I’m a _whatnow_?”

Wild, oceanic eyes locked on her husband.

“You were right.  We _are_ doing this the hard way.  And we don’t have to destroy Voltron at all – we can simply _take it back_!”

Her heart hammered wildly in her chest.

“Seriously, what did you just call me?”  Cossack’s bewildered muttering fell to the wayside as Allura jumped to her feet, snatching the book that was in front of Cossack.  Hastily drawing a blank piece of parchment toward her, her hands flew across the sheet as she sketched.

“We just need to interrupt the connection, by the stars!  The lions will be completely powerless without the ability to access Arus!"  She froze suddenly with a sharp intake of air.  "Lotor, if the Galaxy Alliance figures this out-”

He was already on his feet heading toward the door, catching her line of thinking when her tone became worried again.

“We’ll send an entire armada to form a blockade on the planet.  We will _not_ let them through,” he swore. Gathering the folds of her gown, she trotted behind him as he made his way toward the command center, leaving a stunned Cossack sitting alone in the witch’s laboratory.

“…Did she really just call me a genius?”


	30. Prototype

There had been little that was more reassuring than watching her people openly welcome the Drule vessels that touched down on her planet.

What was once a wary and shaky truce made on only a promise born of desperation had become a lasting fortification and unwavering loyalty.  The ships that had historically brought slavers to her doorstep now carried soldiers with shields for her very people. 

The bastion hung on the horizon, and the Arusians were quick to offer their homes and their food to the soldiers defending them.  As the defense force would be staying indefinitely until the conflict between Arus and the Galaxy Alliance was resolved, the ability to refresh themselves planetside was a welcome offering – not one the soldiers received often.

She exhaled, satisfied that her communication with her people was sufficient. Her heart filling with pride at their tenacity and endless capacity for compassion.

“I couldn’t have asked for a greater blessing,” she murmured to herself as the video feed home cut off in the control center.

“Is it so surprising?  People will always emulate their leaders.”

Allura turned, the gown swirling at her ankles as she looked to the witch.

“They are so much more than I could ever be.”

“I’m not so certain of that, dear.  You don’t give yourself enough credit.  There’s a reason the planet Arus is as… stubborn and resilient as it is.”

Allura’s cheeks heated and she changed the subject swiftly.

“Is Lotor already in the conference room with the commanders?”

“He is.  They’re just waiting for you to finish up here,” she affirmed.  Allura nodded, a great weight lifting off her heart.

“I’ll go and meet with them.  Thank you.”

With a tap to the palmpad at the door, Allura was whisking down the hallway.

 _Perhaps, just perhaps… we’ll win after all._   A grin stretched across her lips at the prospect.  For the first time in over a week, a strange spark of hope surged through her. 

Her people were defended.

Her planet was safe.

Voltron could be reclaimed, not destroyed.

She could even –

“Tell me, girl.”

Allura froze mid-stride on her travel across the inter-spire catwalk at the hauntingly familiar voice.

She hesitated - perhaps she had imagined it in the shadows of her memories flickering back.

“How are you so immortal?”

Nerves flickered from ice to steel as she slowly turned to regard the source of the question.  Her wary eyes flashed over the tall form of the former monarch, his face twisted into a displeased scowl.

Allura swallowed tensely, refusing to back down or show any fear.  Despite finding herself standing in the very same corridor the man had nearly murdered her in, she yielded nothing to him.

Her jaw tilted up in a haughty expression, intimately aware of how alone they were.  No Blue Cat roamed the halls able to notify the witch of the encounter.  She had not fled her husband in terror with him in likely pursuit nearby; he rested in the conference room three floors down, patiently awaiting her presence.

The reality of the fact that she might never make it there alive settled over her shoulders like the very mantle she wore to represent her authority.

Like the drape, her word and her name carried meaning and influence, but they were nearly as flimsy in physicality as the cloth.

She folded her arms over her chest, calibrating the distance between herself and the Drule lingering in the shadows.  While she was out of immediate reach, she recalled with a subtle shiver how quick the man could be.

“I don’t understand that question,” she replied simply, keeping her phrasing curt as to not betray the tremble in her voice.

 _There’s no one nearby who could help me,_ she thought painfully before the weight against her hip shook her from her daze. The heavy promise of steel slung about her waist brought her to her senses. Her eyes narrowed. _Perhaps I no longer need it._

The sword hanging at her side reminded her of the training Lotor had delivered.  It sparked recollections of her battle through the Galaxy Alliance, and it dawned upon her that while she stood in the exact same place with the exact same man, she was _not_ the same woman.

“You. Don’t. Die.”

Allura’s facade broke as he growled the words pointedly.

“I try not to make it a habit, yes,” she agreed irritably.  Her gaze locked with his as she stared him down with a ferocity that rivaled his own people.

A clawed, gnarly hand roamed over his crownless head in frustration, an exhale heaving from his chest.

“I’m late for a meeting, is that all you needed?”

“No.”

She arched an eyebrow but remained silent, patiently awaiting him to find his words.

“I cast fire from your skies and burn your planet,” his eyes opened, glittering dangerously down at her.  “And it regenerates itself.”

Allura’s lips pursed as he took a step toward her but she held her ground.  The fingers upon her right hand twitched to draw her blade, but she waited as he continued.

“I levelled your castle - _and you built another._ ”

Another step.

“I send monsters and beasts to your doorstep, and you respond with a robot that _cannot_ be defeated – like a _god_.”

Each sentence brought him a pace closer until Allura was tilting her head up to stare at him.  She was easily within his striking distance and with his height, her throat was more exposed than she felt comfortable with, yet she refused to back away.

His voice softened, dropping to a low murmur, yet no less lethal than his bark.

“I crush your throat… and here you stand before me, _commanding me._ ”

When silence met his observations, and Allura still refused to yield, he snorted.

“ _How_.”

“Perhaps I am just stubborn,” she replied daintily.  She prayed he couldn’t hear her heart hammering in her chest. The stakes of the dangerous gambit she played rose with each passing second.  She could have run.  She could have cried for help.

She didn’t.

A second rolled by, then a minute as the two stared at each other, considering their opponent.  Zarkon was the first to shatter the silence.

“Perhaps it wasn’t a prayer your father uttered for _you_ , but a curse for _me_.”

Her shield broke at the mention of her father as her defiant expression melted in honest surprise, her arms dropping to her side.

“My father?  What of him?”

A bony eyebrow quirked down at her as his lips curled into a dangerous smirk, the slender woman looking up at him curiously, all facades of fortitude and indifference lost.

“His last breath; he called out your name.”

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and she stepped back out of pain, not fear; her palm clasping over her lips as her gaze left his for the first time.

“Oh,” she whispered once she caught her breath.  “I didn’t…”

“You didn’t know that?”

Allura shot him an irritated look, corralling her emotions as she wiped her unshed tears on the back of her palm.

“And who else but you would there be to tell me?”

He grumbled something in assent before continuing his explanation.

“This entire time I believed it to be some graceless act of love for you.”  His eyes narrowed as her jaw tightened, but she remained silent as he continued.  “And yet after all this time, you stand before me, _ruling_ my empire, and now my very blood mixes with Alfor’s within you.”

A heavy silence fell between them for far, far too many moments that she felt comfortable with, she was certain he had more than enough reason to purge the sin from his lineage.  Once more, the volatile Drule startled her.

“Perhaps _you_ are his final victory.  Perhaps he lost his battle, but won his war.”

He stepped back, measuring the queen. She stared at him wordlessly, openly shocked by the assessment and admission.

“You’re stronger than I first thought,” he muttered after a while, Allura’s eyes popping wide at the underhanded compliment, but he breezed past as if he didn’t notice.  “What bargain exactly did Lotor make with you to instigate this entire thing?”

Allura collected her expression and eyed him critically, her own lips turning up.  Her mind raced with calculations on diplomacy, and a staggering conclusion settled in her mind: if he’d wanted her blood, he would’ve sooner made his first strike.

“In return, I want to know what arrangement he made with you that allows us to have this very conversation.  Until just recently, I was under the impression he was more inclined to leave you… there,” she finished uncomfortably, unable to bring the word _imprisoned_ to her lips.

Another twisted grin curled at his lips.

“Bargaining, are we?  Seems my idiot son keeps secrets from us both.  You first,” he demanded.

Allura weighed her options swiftly and decided to yield a little to obtain what she wanted.

“He offered me Arus’ security and safety, as well as the return of my family,” she explained openly.  “He also swore I wouldn’t be a prisoner, and I would remain in charge of Arus’ affairs.  After thinking it over, I decided perhaps I could endure this arrangement if it kept my people safe.”

“Seems you’ve done more than merely _endure_ it,” he murmured, his eyes glancing down to her abdomen briefly before glancing back.

“Now your turn,” she snapped back, her nose wrinkling in distaste at him.

He hesitated, as if considering holding his information hostage.

“He wanted to know more about Lora’s pregnancy,” he offered honestly, another grin twisting at his lips darkly.  “He seems worried about you.”

Her brow drew taut in response.

“Why would he be worried?  …Should _I_ be worried?”

“Should you?”  Mischief sparkled behind the old king’s eyes, as if he knew more than he dared share.  After all, he _had_ seen it before.

“I… I don’t know.”

A knowing smirk flickered across the weathered Drule’s face, and with an indifferent shrug, he turned and walked away, leaving a stunned queen in his wake.

“Don’t forget your meeting, _your highness,_ ” he called over his shoulder, the undercurrent of a sneer beneath the title, but with no other hostility.

Allura blinked, realizing he was right and bolted down the corridor toward the conference chambers and her husband, her mind a whirling daze of information.

* * *

“I need a favor, Haggar.”

The older woman glanced up from her spellbook as the Arusian queen slipped back into her lab.  Wrapped in her black work fatigues, Allura was already rolling up her sleeves.

“Yes?”

“Do you recall that invisible robeast you created?”

“I do.”

Allura settled herself onto the floor, drawing lazon cables toward her as she began attempting to connect the pieces.  The witch waited patiently for the younger woman to reply, her hands stilling in her divination.

“Another planet has fallen to the Alliance,” she said after a while.

“Is that the source of this uptick in energy?”

“I don’t…” Allura trailed off in frustration, dropping the cables into her lap.  The gold belt with her medicinal pouch and saber sheath still wrapped around her waist, even with her work clothes on.  She palmed the dagger from her side and began whittling at the wires. “It is unendingly frustrating to know the things I used to control – _my_ legacy – are out there… doing this.”

“All things change. War is not kind to anyone, you know.”

“Had I never married Lotor, had our planets never found their peace, I would _still_ hate the Alliance for this.  They are not meant to be weapons – only shields.”

“That is the folly of your regime.”

Tundra eyes flashed harder than permafrost as she looked to Haggar.

“So you believe.”

The Arusian’s gaze softened after a moment as she exhaled.

“There is no dishonor in choosing to only defend, you know.”

“Nor is there dishonor in crushing your enemy.  There _is_ a middle ground.”

Allura sighed softly, rising from the cabling to approach her companion, dropping onto one of the stools flanking the table she worked at.

“I fear I’ve become more aggressive than I should.”

Haggar’s golden eyes tilted in a way indicative of a raised brow.

“Are you saying you think you’re becoming more Drule, dear?”

“I’m not certain,” she hedged.

“Perhaps… it’s not that you’re learning our culture, but perhaps it’s always been inside of you, you’ve just been… _tempered_ by your own.”

Allura’s eyes flashed in understanding.

“Perhaps,” she agreed.  “I’m not sure I necessarily like the idea of being more aggressive than I ever thought before, but… this is the most welcome such traits have felt.”

“One thing Lotor has never been good at is balance.  It’s a fundamental trait of magic.  The most stable concoctions, spells, artifacts – they are a fusion of two opposites.  Where one is weaker, the other is stronger.  In what I do, I strive to seek those balances as best I can.  It fortifies the final product.  I think the same could be said about people.”

Allura glanced away, folding her arms over her chest despondently.

“People are not products.”

“No.  But… they can create them.”

“How – “ Allura froze as her eyes met Haggar’s, only to find her looking to her abdomen. “ _Oh._ ”

“Your child will be the bridge between worlds – as Lora’s was.  Lotor, unfortunately, spent most of his childhood raised under Zarkon’s banner.  It’s all he’s ever known.  Lora did not get the chance to impart much of her influence onto him.  And he _still_ covered the distance.  Between the two of you?  Yours will be _indomitable_.”

Her golden eyes flashed as she cackled at Allura’s shock.

“How could Zarkon do that to her, though.  Didn’t he l-”

“No,” Haggar cut her off before she finished the word.  “Lora was his consort.  He needed an heir.  That’s what mattered.  Your situation, however, is quite different.”

Allura rolled the information over in her mind.

“Is that why Zarkon hates me?”

A slow grin cracked across the witch’s face before she bowed her cowled head and looked away.

“What makes you think he hates you?”

Allura was certain her expression must have betrayed her shock when the witch began cackling openly, but she did not get the opportunity to press her question when Haggar dismissed her completely.

“Nevermind that,” she said gently.  “Let’s talk of robeasts.  You wanted to know of the invisible one.”

The queen studied the cryptic woman across from her warily before acquiescing to the change of subject.

“Yes.  I was hoping we could apply whatever that technology was to the vessel we are building.  While we no longer need to defeat Voltron, we still need to get close.  Ideally, undetected would be the best way.  Disrupting the communication with the bases should be easy enough – I can send Coran directions to do so.  However, we should have everything in place before then.”

“Why do you want to get so close?”

“Once the bases are deactivated, the lions will lose power.  However – that doesn’t mean we can necessarily get into them,” she explained.  “If they’re isolated, they’ll be harmless and helpless.  But if flanked by warships, we’ll have to navigate that.  And I can guarantee that the second they send out a distress call that the power connection is gone, there _will_ be warships.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Black Lion,” Allura said with determination. “Black Lion is the most powerful.  If we can take Black Lion, then we can turn the tide in this, even if the other four somehow have backup power.”

“And you think you can?”

Allura’s determined grin widened and she nodded once.

“If I can get close enough to access the control panel of the ship, I can override the locking mechanism and get inside the cockpit.  Coran can then restore the power to Black Lion’s base, and that ship will be operational, and back under our control.”

“Brilliant,” Haggar complimented openly.

“Cossack’s observation, to be honest,” Allura admitted.

“If you tell him that, he will never let it go.”

The queen only smiled warmly at the conjurer.

“Ah well, it was a blessing to get such insight.  It’s made the road ahead much easier.  The only thing we need to do is build a ship that is also capable of your invisibility magic.  Is that possible?”

“Yes – it’s been done once before.  It was fairly ineffective at the time, but I think in this circumstance it will be exactly what you need.”

“Done before?”

“We’ve had one case of a robeast with a pilot.  Can you guess which one?”

Allura’s brow furrowed as she thought through all the enemies her own defender had taken down.   After a moment, her eyes widened.

“Not the Zarkon one!”

A grin widened across the witch’s face.

“Clearly, he survived.  But I think it’ll be much easier when the pilot is… more willing, you see?”

Allura stared at her in wonderment before nodding once in determination.

“What can I do to help?”

“You’re already on the right track,” the witch explained, her gnarled hands fanning flat across the table. “I’ll take care of the robeast aspect, but I’ll need the modeling you’re already doing of the infracells and dynotherms.  I’ll need to tune the frequency of the beast to match Voltron’s so that you can slip by unnoticed.  While I may question their current pilots’ skill – your lions are notably exceptional at detecting sneak attacks.”

A grin flared across Allura’s lips.

“I think we may be in luck then, Haggar,” she explained, reaching out to touch the back of her hand lightly.  “I believe that was due more to pilot resourcefulness than any hardware on the machine.”

“A truly formidable team,” she murmured quietly, causing Allura’s cheeks to darken slightly.

“Well, we didn’t get there by luck.  We trained together often – and I was most assuredly the weakest link on that team.”

“You certainly are not now.”

“Yes, well.”  She rubbed her hands together nervously.  “I’ll touch base with Lotor and see if we can finish the modeling soon. Anything else you need for the construction?”

“No, I should have it ready in a few days.  I caution you against reaching out to Arus about the power bases – not until we’re ready to move.  Should the Galaxy Alliance intercept the transmission, they will know our next move before we’re ready to make it.”

“Oh,” she breathed out.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  Hopefully their lions do not drain themselves of power before then.  I wouldn’t want them to try and return to Arus.”

“We have quite the fortification set up.”

“I did see that,” the queen admitted, a touched smile warming her lips shyly.  “Thank you for your assistance in that.  I can rest easier and focus more on the task at hand knowing they are protected.”

Haggar only grinned knowingly, nodding her head once in response.

Things were moving forward.


	31. Perfusion

Allura’s eyes snapped to the door in excitement, only to have the light quickly darken from them in disappointment.

“I take it you were expecting my son.”  Zarkon’s voice floated back to her as he caught the change in expression.  Her gaze turned back to the drafting table she stood over, her pen tracing arcs and solving complex analytics.

“He said he would be joining once he finished with another meeting,” she replied, her tone distant but polite.  For whatever divine’s blessing, Zarkon seemed to be attempting to be civil with her, and she dared not upset the thin truce between them, even if her pride defied that logic.

“I still can’t believe you’re doing my idea,” Cossack muttered from where he carried one of the massive pieces of machinery across the floor at Haggar’s direction.

Allura’s lips curled up in genuine delight at the befuddled commander.

“I told you it would go to his head,” Haggar retorted, drawing a soft laugh from the queen.  Her gaze flickered back to the schematic in front of her.

“I should have the dynotherm conversion rate for you shortly, just… need to double check a couple of the figures.  We can’t afford to get this wrong, and certainly not over something as trite as making a mathematical error.”

“We will only have one shot at this,” Haggar conceded.  “Once the Alliance realizes what we are attempting to do…”

“Even with the destabilization of the power bases – they won’t let us get close enough to retake them.  At it’s best, this would end in a stalemate if we cannot press through. The only thing we have for us is the fact they don’t yet know they have this weakness. Once they do…”

“It’s game over if we don’t win it then and there,” Cossack finished, meeting the grim expression on the queen’s face.

“Precisely,” she murmured.

“You’ve really thought this through.”

Allura’s eyes snapped back to the former king near the doorway and she watched him warily for a moment before conceding her honesty.

“It’s the best I can do,” she admitted.  “I like to look not just at what I’d like to go right, but also what could possibly go wrong.”

“No wonder you were so damned successful,” he muttered, a blush staining her cheeks as she looked back to the plans.  Her bare hands twitched slightly, exposed from the rolled-up sleeves of the black fatigues. While she recognized it was important to dress the role of a queen, the tactical and durable clothing was far more forgiving to the subtle roundness of her abdomen and the heavy workload before her.

“Careful, you dolt.”

Allura covered her mouth as Haggar chastised Cossack’s mishandling of the mechanical component he was carrying.

“Oh,” she murmured, leaning forward as she planted both palms on the table.  She blinked, staring down at the drafting plans as the lines blurred together and the numbers jumbled around.

“Hey, you okay?”

Cossack’s voice sounded far away – Allura wasn’t even certain he was speaking to her; it sounded distorted and warped, as if echoing from another room.

The waterfalls in her ears stopped as quickly as they started and she blinked, glancing up as her balance reoriented.  Three sets of golden eyes were fixed on her intently, some with more scrutiny than others.

“Me? I’m fine, sorry,” she replied hastily.  “I think I have the frequency you’ll need with as much certainty as I can produce.”  The queen pressed away from the table, her fingers curling into the parchment she had been working over.

Heavy combat boots only took two steps toward where the witch was before a bolt of lightning rolled down her spine from her neck to her hips, bifurcating along her nervous system in the process.

A hoarse cry left her lips as the ground surged up to meet her suddenly, and the next thing she realized was her cheek rested on cool stone as she lay face-down, crumpled upon herself.

Her blurry vision focused on the doorway, and she became acutely aware of the pins and needles across her body.

Warped hearing caught Haggar’s instructions to Cossack to fetch the doctor while she went to find Lotor.

_ Doctor?  What’s wrong with me? _

She groaned softly and attempted to press herself up from the floor, to at least sit upright and analyze what was happening.  To her horror, she realized she  _ couldn’t. _

Her fingertips did not flex.

Her muscles did not contract.

Her breath caught in her throat as the seed of true fear settled in. 

Her entire body felt paralyzed, her lips weakly parted with shallow breaths, eyes barely able to focus.  But they did.

Adrenaline hammered through her as her heart rate escalated; the only remaining person in the room was approaching her.

_ Zarkon. _

She schooled all her strength and all her will into the single effort to press up from the ground.  To move, to do  _ anything _ but be helpless before him.

Bones protested and musculature defied her demands.  A strange symphony of both ice and fire rolling through her; one limb burned while the other felt frozen before oscillating back and forth.

A weak noise of alarm squeaked out of her throat; the best she could offer as a protest as two clawed hands curled around her shoulders. Flashes from her nightmares sprang up like the stars in her vision, sharp nails digging unforgivingly into her flesh.

_ No _ , she thought weakly, the faintest flinch her only resistance.

The former monarch ignored her mental plea.

With a minimal amount of strength, he lifted her roughly from the floor, flipping her into her back as easily as the paper she had been holding.  Any air remaining in her lungs was knocked out from the impact and she struggled to inhale again, her lungs refusing to respond properly.

Zarkon’s dominating form hovered over her prone body and Allura did her best to attempt to scowl up at him: the most she could offer in her own defense as his shadow clouded her sight.  Once more, she attempted to focus all her strength into her right hand - just to lift it, catch his hand before he struck her down.

When she felt his palms on her thighs, a new and unholy dread settled in her frame.  The fire rolling through her body quickly sundered to ice as bile curled in her stomach.  Fortunately, the unwanted touch was short-lived, only to be replaced with the one she feared more – the hand on her throat.

_ Not again. _

Her mind raced where her body could not, quickly trying to rack her memory stores for where Lotor was.  How far away; how quickly he could reach her.

His unkind eyes narrowed on her as his claw manipulated the flesh of her skin, roughly tilting her head back to expose more of her neck.

Tears budded at the corners of her eyes; after all she had done to train and protect, she once more found herself at the cruel man’s mercy.  In the end, it all came down to –

Glass pressed against her lips, startling Allura from her spiraling panic.  Before she could process what was happening, a warm, silky liquid slid into her mouth, and as the man tilted her head back further, it rolled down her throat.

Her diaphragm spasmed, causing the substance to pool in her mouth, drawing a growl out of the overbearing man over her.

His fingers tightened in their hold marginally and she was nearly certain he was about to snap her neck. 

Zarkon’s other palm pressed down on her ribs above the swell in her stomach.  His large talon curled over the tiny infant inside her as the heel of his palm pressed down.

“You haven’t been taking your damn medicine,” he muttered after a moment.  Allura blinked, the first tendrils of fear beginning to dissipate as the pressure on her body forced her muscles to relax, allowing the fluid to slip down her throat.

She could feel the concoction as it coiled into her stomach finally before nearly instantly dissipating into her bloodstream.  Within seconds, as if by magic, the pins-and-needles sensation faded and she twitched her fingertips.

The pressure on her body abated, and his rough hand released her throat.  Her head dropped back to the floor as he rose back to his feet, staring down at the slip of a woman prostrated on the ground.

A pleasant smirk curled across his lips, barring his fangs slightly at the confusion that twisted unchecked across her visage.

Allura could already feel sensation returning to her hands and feet, as well as regaining control of her head.

In the background, she heard the door whiz open, but didn’t pay it much mind… until the sound of a lazon saber echoed in the room.

“Wait,” she whispered, amazed that she could find her voice, albeit it raspy and short of breath.

Zarkon’s body had turned away from her completely, his hands out before him as if in defense.

As more of her faculties returned to her, Allura propped herself up on her elbows, peering around Zarkon’s legs at a very, very angry husband.

“Allura!”

The sword vanished at his side and he covered the ground between them swiftly, kneeling near her.

“I’m alright,” she murmured as Zarkon backed away from the couple.  “He… actually helped.”

Lotor’s eyes flashed hard, his gloved hand brushing against her throat.

“He bruised you. Again.  And…” His palms roamed over her shoulder and upper arms, the snags in the fabric from the man’s claws indicative of the excessive strength he had used.

“I think it’s alright this time,” she said.  “I… I had no idea what was happening.”

“It’s called a Silver Seize.”

Lotor glanced up to his father warily.

“Why didn’t you just wait for the doctor?”

A crease marred the elder man’s brow.

“When Lora had her first Seize, even her heart and lungs stopped, as well.  Had that been the case with your pretty bride, my inept son, she would have died before the doctor arrived.”

Allura blinked, glancing back to Lotor as he brushed her hair out of her face.

“Take your damn medicine,” Zarkon grumbled and tossed the empty glass vial into her lap before he turned and ambled away from the reclined couple.  “And this won’t ever happen again.”

The queen blinked and curled her fingers around the container.  She glanced to where the latch of her hip-pouch had nearly been ripped apart by his strength.  Her thumb brushed over it lightly before the realization of the entire situation hit her.

_ Zarkon _ had  _ helped _ her.

“Thank-”

She blinked, staring across the room at Haggar’s perplexed expression.  Behind her, the door opened once more and Cossack rushed in, a medic right behind him.

Allura’s weight shifted as she tested the feeling in her limbs, moving to press into a standing position.  Lotor, however, was quick to protest and tugged his wife back down against him, his arms curling protectively around her frame.

“Just wait,” he admonished, earning him a half-hearted pout.

The Drule physician knelt beside her, setting aside the small kit he had brought with him.

“Can you describe what happened, My Queen?”

Allura blinked and reached for her temple, rubbing her head.

“Zarkon called it a ‘Silver Seize’,” she explained.  “All I know is one moment I was standing, and the next I felt as though I had been struck by lightning and couldn’t move a muscle in my body.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully.

“That sounds about right.  We don’t usually see those - not… to this extent anyway.  ...Not since Lora,” he added.

Allura felt Lotor stiffen at her side, but he remained silent as the doctor checked her heart rate.

“I’m really fine,” she insisted.  “What in heaven-”

Her eyes popped wide as the Drule withdrew a wicked-looking needle.  He paused and blinked at her, as if the instrument were more innocuous than she believed.

“I’m going to test your nerves.”

“No, no you certainly are not,” she mumbled, scooting further into Lotor and away from the barbaric device.  It was nearly as long as her forearm and bore a nasty barb at the end. 

“We need to ascertain if your sensation to touch has been restored properly, My Queen.  I assure you it’s entirely normal,” he explained. As he moved closer, Lotor’s palm closed around the offending hand and gently pushed the large needle away.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Allura blinked as his weight shifted behind her and in the next moment she found herself lifted off the ground and cradled in his arms.

“I can do the necessary tests,” he replied with a smirk.  “I’ll be sure to notify you if I am concerned with how...  _ sensitive _ her nerves are…”

A heat flushed over her body as the implication of his words settled in.

“Lotor,” she hissed at him, scandalized at the public insinuation.  In response, he just shot her an innocent look.

“What is it, my sweet? I’m just following the doctor’s orders.”

Her eyes narrowed and she pouted at the chuckle that vibrated from his chest when he turned and deftly carried her from the room.

“Scoundrel.”

* * *

Allura dropped delicately into the center of their bed with a delightful squeak, the covers and pillows blooming up to cradle her frame.

Before she could even protest, his towering frame was over her, swift hands unfastening the belt about her waist, tossing it to the floor, only after ensuring the door was secured.  The sword on the belt made a heavy noise as it landed, but Lotor paid it no mind.

He knelt beside her on the bed, his eyes roaming her form and Allura felt her blush deepen.

“You have every right to strike me for that,” he murmured after a thoughtful moment.

The queen blinked in surprise.

“Strike you?”

She hadn’t entertained the thought of physical conflict with him in quite a while - not with any sincerity, at the least.  Her eyes popped wide when Lotor looked over his shoulder at the discarded weapon.

“I just did something quite offensive.  It’s rude to strip someone of their weapons without their consent first,” he explained, looking back to her.

A lazy smile curled at her lips and she exhaled.

“I don’t mind if you do it,” she murmured.  “Now, come here,” she beckoned, leaning back into the plush behind her, extending her arms up to him.

“You give me no higher honor than your trust,” he praised softly, settling against the sheets beside her, eager to oblige her nonverbal request.

A soft laugh left her lips as she reached for his own belt, the notorious skull uncomfortably close to her body.

“If I may return the honor?”   Amusement twinkled in her eyes when he didn’t stop her small hands from hooking around the garish ornament, and with a little difficulty, she managed the latch and peeled back his own weapon’s stow.

With more reverence than he had offered her, she gently set the belt off to the side, but still near them on the bed.

When he arched a brow down at her, she smiled smartly back at him.

“You can still reach it there,” Allura explained, pride in understanding of his culture flaring when his eyes widened in surprise.  “Not that I anticipate you would need it, but…”

“Better to be prepared for anything,” Lotor finished for her, his palm curling around her jaw, cupping under her cheek as he closed the distance between them, stealing her words with a soft brush of his lips against her own.

It was a leisure movement, languid and slow.  An unusual reverence and patience resonated from the man and Allura seeped the sensation fully.

He kissed her openly, indulging in the taste of her as if she were a rich dessert to be savored.

Lotor’s thumb caressed her cheek in a soothing motion, his other palm sliding up her arm with a near-sinful slowness, until it rested on the opposite side of her face.  Without ever breaking the connection between them, his fingers flexed and with careful speed, he pulled them up, threading them through her hair, gently undoing the taut bun behind her head.

Allura released a soft noise of surprise and tilted her head back to look up at him curiously.

“Lotor?”

“We still need to make sure the serum circulated through your body completely, Allura,” he reminded her gently as her hair fanned out behind her.  His palms continued to roam down the back of her head, gently skirting over her throat and down the outsides of her arms.

Careful, finely-tuned fingers felt her flesh through her clothes, searching for any stray flex, any strained muscle, any frozen tendon.

As his hands found hers, Allura paused his actions and rotated her slender palm in his until they touched each other.  She fanned her fingers out to match his, and marveled at the difference in size between them.

Where he was corded and taut with muscle, born from years of training and practice, she was slender and delicate, yet no less lethal when the need arose.

“Sometimes it all still seems surreal,” she murmured, raising her eyes from the link between them to look into his.

A catch felt in her throat at the deep, honeyed look he watched her with.  Allura bit down on her lip, shyly folding her fingers between his until they were interlaced.

He said nothing, only followed her gentle nudge as she drew his palms closer to her body, his own leaning over her as she settled back into the sheets.

Lotor was cautious as his thighs straddled either side of her hips, mindful of his weight on her.

“I won’t break, you know,” she murmured playfully, tugging him closer without warning.  The proud king collapsed onto his wife when she caught him by surprise.

Allura released a genuine laugh and she quickly laced her fingers through his hair affectionately, his head more than content to rest on her chest.

“I feel fine now,” she repeated against his muffled protests.  She brushed her fingers through his hair absentmindedly, drawing an unconscious exhale from him.

“It is a little strange to me to lie with you like this,” she observed, watching the ceiling above them, reveling in the sensation of his weight on her.   Allura felt neither pinned nor trapped, crushed nor pressured. It was comforting feeling - to be so very  _ aware _ of his presence.

A deep vibration rumbled against her, drawing her attention back down to his face.  Lotor’s head tilted up to watch her wordlessly, his brow arched once more, the shadows of a curious smirk on his expression.

“You’re not usually so calm when there’s a bed beneath us,” she teased lightly, her fingers taking to tracing deft, intricate patterns on his back.

“I never knew there was a good reason to be,” he admitted, letting his eyes close once more, his head relaxing against her, all traces of conquering, victory or pride melting from him at his gentle wife’s soft touch.  Beneath her palms alone, he allowed the vulnerability he had repressed his whole life to show. Allura brought him a serenity he had never known existed, and he found himself utterly at the woman’s mercy for it.

“Everything will be fine,” she murmured, only to feel him huff against her body.  “You don’t believe me?”

A deep exhale expanded his chest and he glanced back up at her once more.

“I have spent my entire life losing, Allura.”

“What about all those planets you conquered?”  She allowed one of her hands to drift up until her fingers brushed his exposed cheek gently.

A frown marred his expression briefly and she could feel his jaw tighten against her body.

“You think I kept what was plundered from those planets?  Father took most of it. He even took…” He released a shaky exhale, unable to name his mother.  “And Voltron - I’ve always lost to Voltron, as everyone was quick to remind me.”

Her knuckles dusted softly across his flesh and he tilted his head to the side to kiss her hand reverently.

“Well,” she began after a moment of thought.  “I suppose then, that it is a good thing you married the one who’s always won, now isn’t it?”

He stilled, and when he glanced back up at her, she grinned playfully.

“I don’t lose, Lotor.  And I certainly don’t intend to now.”

A heavy moment pulsed between them before the familiar, proud smirk stretched across his lips slowly.

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?”

A shiver rolled through his muscles as he languidly pressed off of her just enough to stalk the length of her body until they were nose to nose.

Silver hair fell around them like a curtain as Allura matched his smirk with one of her own.

She trailed her fingertips through the waterfall around them, gliding through the volume and texture of his locks.

With more than enough time for Allura to recognize what he was doing and object, he retook her lips with his own, resuming the tender, gentle pace he had started.

His queen has no objections to his ministrations, and warmly welcomed the touch.  Her palms brushed over his cheeks, her fingertips dancing boldly over the point of his ear, drawing a deep groan from him in response.

Lotor felt her lips curl up against his in a smile while she explored him with the same soft curiosity that he offered her.

The king felt no rush, no primal call to action, no deep-seated desire to take or claim.  There was an openness between them, an exchange of vulnerability. Never before had he admitted to the losses stacked against him; never would he have dreamed of being welcomed for it.  His failures and regrets had always been a stain on his existence, something to be ashamed of, to strive to overcome.

And yet, he found himself with Allura willingly, wantonly beneath him, her arms embracing and accepting all sides of him.  The aspects she didn’t understand, even the ones she abhorred, she still  _ accepted. _

“You are the single most terrifying person in the universe,” he whispered against her lips as he pulled back from the kiss.

She studied him for a moment.

“I’m certain you intend that to be a compliment, knowing you, but I don’t believe I understand how,” she admitted with a shy blush.

“No matter,” he dismissed, his palms dancing down the fabric of her shirt.  Lotor’s weight rocked back and as he eased into a sitting position over her Allura followed his lead.

As she came to sit, still nestled beneath his legs, his hands grasped the hem of her top and with a slow reverence, he deftly peeled it up her body.  Allura felt her skin blush everywhere his eyes touched, even without actually seeing where he stared.

The queen’s nervousness flickered when he stilled, the shirt half-off her head.  She swallowed apprehensively and tugged it off the rest of the way, unable to wait for whatever gave him pause.

“Lotor?”

She set the fabric aside and followed his gaze.  His palm gently brushed over the subtle swell in her stomach, the first physical indication of their union.

It wasn’t the mound that caught his quiet stare, but the soft, superficial tears in her flesh above it and the reddening blot just beneath her sternum; another mark yet to darken.

“It’s… I know it looks bad,” she murmured.

“He could’ve killed-”

“Lotor,” she murmured, her palms closing over his own.  “That wasn’t his intention. He was trying to get the medicine into me.  I… I think he might have…”

His gaze snapped back up to hers as she averted her own.

“Allura?”

“At the very least, I think he might have saved the child.  I’m not… I’m not certain. I probably should have been speaking more with the doctor.  I just… I hadn’t felt any symptoms, you know?”

“It’s not that, Allura,” he scowled.

She huffed against him, watching the wisps of silver hair around his neck flare slightly.

“What is it then?”

“I don’t like his mark upon you.”

Her palms pressed tighter against his hand, emphasizing the blooming womb.

“I’d say you’ve left a far more dominant one.”

A deep rumble vibrated from the back of his throat in appreciation.

“One of these will fade.  One will last forever.”

His palms tightened around her waist as his lips claimed hers once more, a familiar, heated need behind the surging kiss.

Allura’s fingers laced tightly through his hair, pulling him closer until her breasts pressed against his chest.  His tongue toyed with hers and when Allura tilted her head back to catch her breath, he pressed his lips down her throat to her collarbone.

“You’re… you’re doing that thing again,” she panted softly.

He released an inquiring noise against her skin as his kiss caressed her breast.

“You’re fully clothed and I’m-”

Before she could finish the complaint, the Drule had leaned back and tossed his drape, gloves and tunic aside, leaving his bare flesh against her own before he retook his careful assessment of her nervous system.

She heard his boots thump to the floor off the side of the bed before she felt his fingers on the laces of her own, Lotor’s mouth never leaving the taut nipple he had conquered.

Allura’s hands boldly courted the chiseled flesh, sliding deftly up his sides, feeling the contours of flexing muscles over his ribs, the sharp cut of his pectorals, even a dainty trace over the light scar before her fingers curled into his biceps, clinging to him as if he were water in the desert.

She felt his lips curl into a smirk against her when a soft gasp left her lips, her irritatingly smug husband never quick to reap his praise.

“Come here, you,” she bade, and he was more than pleased to obliged, surging up to meet her lips yet again. Her arms curled over his back and she tugged him down, cradling his half-clothed form against her own, legs entangled with each other.

“Lotor,” she murmured against him when she felt his thumbs hook into her waistband.  “I’m tired,” she explained. His palms stilled and he leaned away so he could meet her eyes.

“What can I do.”

It was a line that danced dangerously between a question and a command, Lotor’s voice hoarse with concern he fought to contain.

“Just… stay.”  She flashed him a quiet smile.  “With me.”

He hesitated a moment as if processing her words before a quiet understanding warmed him.  A flex rolled through the king’s form as he leaned in toward her, hands curling about her midsection protectively.

In a careful freefall into the plush fabric, he pulled his wife down to rest against him, skin to skin, her back pressed against his chest, his hands clasping her stomach protectively.

Allura mewled in protest and wiggled in his grasp, turning her frame so that she curled against her wall of a husband, content to settle against her own personal shield as his hands took their turn to trace delicate patterns upon her bare back.

Hands that had seen war, known loss and even shed blood moved over her as if she were a holy relic, something delicate and sturdy, proud and humble - and powerful.

Allura smiled, resting her head against his chest, a soft huff of an exhausted sigh leaving her lungs.

“Doctor later,” he admonished gently, though she could isolate the concern in his voice.  Lotor feared another - worse - mishap than earlier, and he struggled to contain the alarm.

“Later,” she agreed, content in her place beside him in the interim.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading thus far!


End file.
